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THE 


COI^FEDERATE SPY: 


OR STARTLING INCIDENTS OP 


THE WAR BETWEEN THE STATES. 




By R. H. CROZIER, A. M., 

Formerly Captain of Company I, dSd Regiment of Mississippi Volunteers, 
and Author of “ Fiery Trials,” “Araphel,” “Cave of 
Hegohar,” etc., etc. 




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IFufth lEjiDimoiT- 


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LOUISVILLE: 

PRINTED BY JOHN P. MORTON & COMPANY. 

1885. 




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Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1866, by 
E. H. CROZIEK, A. M., 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for tne 
Middle District of Tennessee. 



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II 


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PREFACE 


It is with extreme diffidence that the author of the following 
pages ventures before the intelligent public in the character of a 
novelist. Whoever writes any thing in these days, when the 
press is already teeming with ephemeral literature, must suppose 
that the effusions of his mind are above the thousands that come 
forth every hour. But the author of this unpretending little 
volume has too much modesty to lay olaim to any such superior 
excellence, especially in a first effort. He does not publish the 
book with the humble hope that it will rank with even the ordi- 
nary works of mediocrists in the world of romance. The author 
has only one object in view. He submits the book to the judg- 
ment of the patriotic southern public, with the hope that it may 
help to supplant the poisonous northern literature which has 
for so many years flooded the South, and villifled the southern 
people and their institutions. The time has now come when 
there ought to be a change. The South must have a literature of 
her own. If we could not gain our political, let us establish at 
least our mental independence. 

We appeal, therefore, to the southern people; to their dignity; 
to their sense of justice to themselves; and we ask them no 
longer to encourage the yellow and the red-hacked trash of the 
North, in which the attempt is made to hold up the South as the 
butt of the civilized world. Soon thousands of tales will come 
forth from the vile den of New England, containing scandalous 


3 


4 


PREFACE. 


caricatures of our beloved South, and of the misfortunes of our 
late Confederacy. Do not buy them, southern reader! Do not 
insult the memory of your noble dead by enriching northern 
writers, who make sport of their bloody graves! If you must 
read novels, we ask you, for the sake of your^ead heroes, to read 
those which do not abuse and villify your ancestors, yourselves, 
your institutions, your religion — all that you hold dear and 
sacred! 

The following story is founded upon facts, or rather it comes 
nearer being a narrative of. facts. We have dealt with living 
characters. The main errors in our book, taken even as a his- 
tory, consist chiefly in points of chronology and locality. The 
author confesses that he has taken advantage of the privilege 
allowed to all novelists, in this respect, and has located and dated 
scenes in order to maint£),in the connection of the story, and pre- 
serve its unity. The author claims no great credit for the con- 
struction of the plot. Unfortunately, it constructed itself. We 
are indebted very slightly to our imagination. The incidents 
herein related are nearly all actual occurrences, however horrible 
they may appear. Perhaps an apology is due to the reader for 
the profanity which so frequently occurs throughout these pages. 
All we have to say is, that the Yankee character can not be cor- 
rectly delineated without it. 

Southern reader, you now know our object. Will you sustain 
us? Will you encourage southern writers? If so, “prove your 
faith by your works.” 

THE AUTHOR. 

Panola County, Miss., May 27, 1866. 


PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION. 


The “ Confederate Spy ” was written partly during the War of 
1861, when the author was quite a young man. Since the publi- 
cation of the last (fourth) edition he has become a minister of the 
gospel, and at the time of his ordination he concluded to let the 
book go out of print, from the fact that it contained some expres- 
sions which some persons, who were opposed to works of fiction 
generally, regarded as of doubtful propriety. But the demand for 
the book, especially in the South, never has ceased, and it is now 
so considerable that it has been determined to issue another, the 
fifth, edition. 

The reader will find, occasionally, profane expressions, em- 
ployed by some of the characters. When it was determined to 
issue the present edition, the author thought it would be advisable 
to revise the book, and exclude every one of these objectionable 
expressions ; but intelligent friends and critics, with ’whom he 
consulted, and in whose judgment he has unbounded confidence, 
strongly advised against such a mutilation. They insisted, justly 
too, that military men generally used profane expressions. Why 
not represent them as they were, and allow them to be true to 
themselves? They argued that if Walter Hallam’s profane lan- 
guage should be changed or omitted, it would destroy his charac- 
ter — he would not, and could not, be the same person. As the 
book was a success in its present form, the author has concluded. 


( 5 ) 


6 


PREFACE. 


after mature deliberation and reflection, to let it appear unchanged. 
Of course, no reader of any intelligence will attribute profanity, 
or any inclination to it, to the author himself, merely because some 
of the dramatis personce of the story are guilty of it. Such char- 
acters are a logical outgrowth of the surroundings ; and the author 
would be more culpable for their absence than he is for their 
presence. 

It may be asked, why republish the book if even any portion 
of it, however small, can be regarded as objectionable? The 
reply is, the “ Confederate Spy ” was at first written for the pur- 
pose of showing in what manner the war was conducted. It is a 
picture of the dark times between 1861 and 1865. Henry Winston 
and Emily Burrell are exponents of Southern sentiment and true 
types of Southern character, and as such they must kindle the 
patriotic emotions and awaken the sympathy of every Southern 
man, or woman, who reads this volume. Our Northern brethren 
have sent forth many books more abusive than this. It is only 
just and fair to accord to us the privilege of defending ourselves 
by stating our side of the questions at issue. 

But we have said enough, and with “malice toward none” we 
send forth another edition of the “ Confederate Spy,” hoping that 
it* will prove interesting and useful to readers generally. 


THE AUTHOK. 


THE CONFEDEKATE SPY, 


CHAPTER I. 

There was a soft and pensive grace, 

A cast of thought upon her face, 

That suited well the forehead high, 

The eyelash dark and downcast eye.” 

In the extreme north-eastern portion of the “dark and 
bloody ground” — or, in other words, the State of Kentucky — 
there stood in the year 1860 a stately residence. It was 
a tall, square, two-story building, similar in size, shape, and 
appearance to hundreds of others scattered throughout the 
heaven-favored land of the “sunny South.” There was there- 
fore nothing peculiarly remarkable in the construction of this 
dwelling. Nevertheless, rearing itself, with its snow-white 
walls and tall stone chimneys, amid a grove of scattered oaks, 
that were green and shady in spring, but bare, leafless, and 
somewhat melancholy during the bleak days of winter, it pre- 
sented from the distance a picturesque and romantic appear- 
ance. The surrounding scenery was unsurpassed in loveliness. 
The top of the eminence upon which the house was situated 
contained several acres, that lay spread out in level smoothness 
for more than two hundred yards; then gradually declined in 
all directions, till arrested by hills on one side, and lost on the 
other in a bottom. In the rear of the residence tall hills arose 
in majestic splendor; in front, at the distance of half a mile, 

(7) 


8 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


there flowed a large creek, or perhaps it would be better to 
call it a small river, whose clear, transparent waters rolled on 
in solemn silence, until, mingling and commingling with other 
streams, all were finally introduced, through the channel of the 
grand old ‘‘Father of Waters,” to the wide bosom of the Gulf 
of Mexico. An immense tract of the river bottom had been 
made subservient to the purposes of cultivation, and the con- 
sequence was, a broad plantation spread out, whose monotony 
was broken by fences and cross-fences, that reached to the 
hills far on the other side of the stream, which were bedecked 
with tall, waving trees, crowned with deep cerulean blue. The 
house was approached from the direction of the river through 
a long avenue, either side of which was decorated with all 
varieties of trees and shrubs. At the foot of this avenue ran 
a road, which, from the observatory on the house-top, could be 
seen, for a long distance, winding along the little hills that 
bordered on the river bottom. 

Every thing in the vicinity of this magnificent dwelling 
evinced the refined taste of the owner. The broad plantation 
with its tall, strong fences, the comfortable negro -quarters, the 
neat barns and stables, the orchard with its delicious fruit, the 
white palings, the yard variegated with all descriptions of 
flowers, made it manifest, if external Circumstances can furnish 
any indication of character, that this was the habitation of a 
person of elevated feeling and cultivated mind. 

We do not wish, however, to tax the patience of our reader 
with too much description, nor to force upon his attention too 
many objects that can claim no essential pertinency to our 
story. We will therefore commence without further preface, 
prelude, or preliminary, as Horace says, in rtiedias res (to 
translate which three words literally signifies, in the middle of 
things), and at once introduce the characters destined to figure 
throughout these pages. Then we will commence as we have 
«aid. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


9 


Joseph Burrell, at the time this story begins, was an old 
man, active though even at the age of sixty-five. Having 
possessed an ample fortune from early youth, he had enjoyed 
immunities from the ordinary cares of life that so much tram- 
mel the actions, harass the feelings, and sour the tempers of 
the greater portion of mankind. Major Burrell, and we call 
him major not because he had been in military life that we 
ever heard of, but had obtained this title, like many other 
people do, from the possession of a great quantity of worldly 
wealth. We are disposed in this country to bestow high- 
sounding military titles upon millionaires and nabobs. But 
Major Burrell, with commendable prudence, had vastly im- 
proved the magnific-ent inheritance handed down by his ances- 
tors. At the age of twenty -three, when both his parents had 
gone to that “bourne whence no traveler returns,” he quietly 
settled down at the old homestead like a wise young man, 
married the woman of his choice, and had lived happily many 
years, instead of strolling about through the world without 
any definite object in view, and wasting his splendid bequeath- 
ment in idleness, extravagance, and dissipation. The reader, 
when he learns the part Major Burrell is to play in this little 
history, will agree with me that it is not necessary to enter into 
all the particulars of his character. We will simply say that 
he was a stout, hale, hearty, active old man, in his dotage, as 
will be seen in due time. The outside world will be better 
satisfied when we add to the catalogue that he was rich. And 
now, reader, by the by, you and I know full well that wealth 
has its advantages as well as its cares and encumbrances. It 
confers many blessings and privileges upon its fortunate pos- 
sessor. It brings power, political and social influence; it 
supersedes the necessity of a lifetime of labor; besides many 
other advantages, things, and circumstances, which it will not 
be proper now to enumerate. But beyond this its power may 
be said to cease. The seeds of disease and the shafts of death 


10 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


are scattered broadcast among rich and poor, without distinc- 
tion or discrimination. The “green monster” seizes, without 
much warning, upon Dives and Lazarus. And, reader, this 
circumstance is a great consolation to us poor sinners, who 
are struggling day after day, toiling night after night, for the 
means of subsistence, and yet by the most strenuous efforts 
can barely keep the corporeal system in a good, comfortable 
conditioo, and the mind in a calm, tranquil state; for if riches 
could ward off the attacks of man’s chief enemy, and enable 
one to escape the “ills that flesh is heir to,” there could be 
but little enjoyment beyond the simple pleasure of exercising 
the organs of respiration in a world where there would be 
only one grand, mighty, desperate, and protracted struggle for 
“filthy lucre.” And now, with this brief digression and this 
little moralizing, which we hope will be received in a spirit of 
kindness, we will proceed with the story. 

Major Joseph Burrell, although surrounded by every thing 
in the shape of physical comforts which the human heart could 
in reason desire, was nevertheless subject to the penalties of 
mortality, and had been called upon to mourn the loss of a 
wife and four children. One by one they had been snatched 
from the stage of action, till only two now remained to console 
him in his declining years: the elder, a son, who, at the time 
our story commences, was a student in the military institute 
of West Point; the younger, a daughter, who, with the reader’s 
permission, will be more particularly noticed. 

Eighteen years had flown over the head of Emily Burrell. 
We will commence the description of Emily by asking the 
reader if he or she, as the case may be, ever saw an ugly 
young lady? We never did. Nearly all young ladies are 
good-looking, if not handsome and positively beautiful. The 
term ugly therefore is a modifying adjective, which is not at 
all applicable in the description of the “fair,” especially one 
of young and tender years. We mean to insinuate by this 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


11 


that Emily was no exception to the general rule. Indeed, she 
could lay claim to the very highest order of beauty. Her 
dark hair hung down from a classically-shaped head, in jet 
black tresses, to shoulders that vied with alabaster in point of 
pure whiteness. A pair of large, black, brilliant eyes, that 
flashed and sparkled under the influence of aroused feeling, 
evinced the possession of a mind and heart that could be 
wrought to the highest pitch of excitement. Above the eyes 
arose a pure, white, broad, open, smooth forehead, whose 
inequalities nevertheless were sufl&cient to redeem its owner 
from the suspicion of possessing a phrenologically well-devel- 
oped head without the intellect to sustain appearances. Her 
nose was, we say without hesitation, unlike Solomon’s descrip- 
tion of his bride’s (we do not know which one of them he had 
reference to) nasal organ — “as the tower of Lebanon which 
looketh toward Damascus.” (Between you and me, reader, 
inter nos, and speaking without irreverence or profanity, I 
always associated Solomon’s description with the idea of a 
pug nose.) It is sufficient to say that Emily’s' was not a pug 
nose, and that it was duly proportioned to her other features. 
Add to these lineaments rosy cheeks, red lips, a pretty mouth, 
white, pearly teeth, a symmetrical figure of medium size, beau- 
tifully proportioned, and graceful in all its motions and move- 
ments, and you have before you one whom Juno (I believe 
there is no law, moral, civil, or military, against taking the 
name of a heathenish divinity in vain) might have envied, even 
when she, according to Virgil, stalked through the heavens 
in her pride and vainglory, with the high-sounding, world- 
wide banter, incedo regina, issuing from her ambrosial lips. 

But, strange to say, Emily, with all these external recom- 
mendations, was not a proud, vain, self-conceited girl, as the 
reader might be inclined to suppose. At a very early age she 
had manifested a taste for literary pleasures, and was deeply 
read for one of her age. Emily was a student — a student of 


12 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


nature — a thorough lover of knowledge. She loved solitude, 
and had early felt, in the language of a great poet, 

“ There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 

There is a rapture on the lonely shore j 
There is a society, where none intrudes. 

By the deep sea, and music in its’ roar.” 

Often had she wandered along the banks of the limpid 
river, sat in the cool, shady grove, listened to the unaffected 
music of nature’s warblers, and reflected profoundly upon 
subjects which might have been considered beyond her years. 
Calm, sober, intense thought had solidifled her mind and puri- 
fied her nature. Her life thus far had been spent principally 
in an ideal world. Having had few companions of her own 
sex from childhood, she almost lived upon thought. She 
could with Shakespeare exclaim; 

“ The shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, 

I better brook than flourishing peopled towns; 

There can I sit alone, unseen of any. 

And to the nightingale’s complaining notes 
Tune my distresses and record my woes.” 

However, the record of Emily’s real “distresses and woes” 
would have been somewhat summary. Thus far few disap- 
pointments had embittered her existence. Aside from the 
ordinary troubles and cares incidental to, or rather inseparable 
from, mortality, she may be said never to have suffered. 
Smooth and even had been the current of her young life. 
Far from the busy haunts of noisy cities, she had lived in the 
forests — a student and a child of nature. She must not be 
supposed, from the description we have given, destitute of sen- 
sibility, nor a follower of Plato, nor a member of the church of 
passionless Stoics. Indeed, she was warm-hearted, enthusiastic, 
kind, generous, benevolent, and would have loved madly and 
wildly could she have met with her heau-ideal. But she was 
not a character to lavish her affections upon an object recom- 
mended only by the beauty of exterior organism. She was 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 13 

one who could love only where moral excellence and solid 
worth would first command esteem, respect, and admiration. 

It is evident that a girl possessing all these physical and 
mental attractions, besides being prospective heiress of an 
immense fortune (which last qualification is not overlooked by 
some people), could not forever remain in obscurity. Some 
poet has beautifully said: 

“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 

And waste its fragrance on the desert air." 

But such was not always to be Emily’s destiny. Up to 
this time, which is something remarkable, she had bestowed 
few thoughts upon “love, courtship, and marriage;” and yet 
she was blessed, if blessing it can be called, with numerous 
admirers and lovers. But to none of these had she ever sriven 

O 

the slightest encouragement to persevere in their attentions. 
With something akin to good-natured submission, she had 
endured the numerous visits of the silly fops that fiocked to 
her father’s house from the little town not far distant, and 
listened cheerfully to their silly chat upon silly subjects. But 
not one of these had ever awakened in her heart a sentiment 
bearing the most remote resemblance to love. 

One evening a small party of these young gents had con- 
gregated in the counting-room of a mercantile house in the 
little town to which we have already alluded. One of the 
number had just returned from Major Burrell’s. As the con- 
versation which took place on this occasion may save us the 
trouble of a long description, and as it was connected with our 
story, we will record so much of it as is necessary. We, 
however, warn the reader in time, that this chat was similar 
to that of most young men enlivened and exhilarated by the 
influence of the god Bacchus. 

“Well, Bill, how’s Miss Emily?” said one to William 
Jones, as he entered the apartment. 

“She’s well enough, I guess,” replied the person addressed, 


14 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


in a tone that plainly showed he was not as well pleased with 
the visit as usual. 

.“You needn’t be so crusty about it, old iellow; you are 
not the first that ever got his walking papers at the same 
house,” said the first speaker, with a wink to his companion. 

“You are mistaken there. I did not get my papers; but I 
rather guess we are all done for at the old Major’s.” 

“How’s that, Bill?” said Tom Wilkins. “Tell it all at 
once.” 

“Very little explanation will suffice. I have just returned 
from the old Major’s, as you know, and Miss Emily is ter- 
ribly smitten with an awkward relative of hers — a sort of 
fifteenth cousin, or something of the kind — just kin enough 
to make courtship interesting. He is not to be grinned at, 
though, for he is a darned good-looking fellow, notwithstanding 
he’s so gawky; and I’ll bet ten to one carries off the prize: 
and there goes another five hundred thousand!” 

“Egad! that’s what sticks you. But what’s his name?” 

“ His name is Gallam, Hallam, Ballam, or something that 
way. I do n’t recollect now.” “ 

“Where does he come from, and what kind of a fellow is 
he? Tell it all in a lump.” 

“Well, then, he lives about one hundred and fifty miles 
from this place, I understand. His height is, I should judge, 
in the neighborhood of five feet ten. His hair is black ; eyes 
of the same color. His complexion is on the Ethiopian style; 
nose large and fashionable; mouth somewhat less than Tom 
Wilkins’s, there.” 

“Darn it,” said Tom, “never mind my mouth; you have 
always got something to say about my features. By jingo ! I 
wish you would find something else to talk about.” 

“Boys! I’ve got a good joke on Tom; and, since he’s so 
darned testy and cross, I ’ll tell it.” 

“Tell it and be d — d!” said Tom, angrily. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


15 


“Well, last week Tom and I called on Miss Emily. I 
thought I would keep it a secret for his sake, but I declare 
it’s too good to be lost. While we were sitting in the parlor, 
Miss Emily excused herself and retired for a few moments. 
During her absence Tom walked to the mantel-shelf, and very 
unluckily upset an inkstand, and spilled its contents on the 
hearth-rug. Tom quickly jerked out his pocket handker- 
chief, wiped up the ink, and put it in his pocket. Just then 
Miss Emily came in. Tom was somewhat confused; but, to 
hide it, I suppose, he picked up a book of poetry. 

“ ‘Miss Emily,’ said Tom, ‘here’s a beautiful piece of poetry;’ 
and he read four lines. ‘I wrote them down, and here they are : 

*Fair eldest child of love, thou spotless night t 
Empress of silence, and the queen of sleep, 

Makest lover’s eyes enamored of thy beauty.’ 

Who, with thy black cheek’s pure complexion, 

“But the beauty of the performance was, when Tom was 
reading the third line, he snatched out his handkerchief and 
wiped it over his face till his own cheeks were as black as 
midnight. 

“ ‘ I think, Mr. Wilkins,’ said Miss Emily, when Tom paused, 
‘ “thy black cheek’s pure complexion” is a splendid idea; and 
you have pronounced it and illustrated it with an emphasis that 
is calculated to make a decided impression.’ 

“I was so tickled I laughed outright, and so did Miss 
Emily. Tom looked at us in surprise, but he happened to 
catch a glimpse of his face in a mirror, and he was the most 
woe begone chap ever I saw. If he blushed, his face was so 
black nobody could see it. By Jove! boys, he just made one 
snatch at his hat, and ran out like the very devil. I never 
saw Miss Emily laugh so much in my life. I thought she 
never would stop.” 

“By dad! Tom must be hangarooed for that,” said one, 
while the party was in a perfect roar of laughter. 


16 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Guilty or not guilty, Tom?” asked another. 

“Go to h — 11!” answered Wilkins, rising and leaving the 
room. The whole party roared louder than ever. 

But we have promised not to worry the patience of our 
kind readers with long descriptions of scenes which are dis- 
connected with the story. We have introduced the above 
characters merely to bring forward a personage with whom we 
must become more intimately acquainted. If the reader can 
form any idea of Emily’s cousin — that is, his personal ap- 
pearance — from William Jones’s description, we are satisfied. 
We will, therefore, leave the party, discussing for a few 
moments in regard to Emily’s fortune, and the probabilities of 
a marriage with her cousin, and introduce that gentleman 
himself, and let the reader form his own opinions, and draw 
his own conclusions. As we do not like to jumble up events 
together, and crowd so many different circumstances all into 
one place, and thereby confuse and distract our readers’ 
attention, we will commence a new chapter. The reader is 
now at liberty to drop the acquaintance of Bill Jones and 
Tom Wilkins, as they will not make their appearance again 
in this little history. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


17 


CHAPTER II. 

“Let us love temp’rately ; things violent last not; 

And too much dotage rather argues folly 
Than true affection." 

Walter Hallam, the person to whom allusion was mad( 
in the last chapter, was the descendant of parents in moderate 
circumstances. Appreciating the advantages of education, they 
had sent Walter to school until he was graduated. Though 
a young man of some “parts,” he gave but little promise 
of distinction, at least in the literary world; and yet he was 
somewhat of a student in his own peculiar way. Knowledge 
to him was valuable only so far as it coulti be made available 
in the achievement of some definite end, and was practically 
useful. Abstract science was his utter detestation. However, 
Horace, Virgil, and all the other Greek and Latin authors 
who are the beloved companions of the true scholar, had no 
sympathy from young Hallam, with their “ridiculous non- 
sense,” as he termed it. “Milton,” he would say to his 
fellow-students, “is a bombastic old fool; and- 1 confess my 
surprise that sensible men should be so taken with his 
silly descriptions of hobgoblins, and his desperate battles 
between angels and devils, and his foolish contradictions in 
general. AVhy, by the gods! how could a battle ever termi- 
nate between parties, the members of which could not be 
killed. The idea of spirits tearing up hills and moun- 
tains by the roots, hurling them through space at one 
another, and playing the devil generally — it’s simply absurd 
and ridiculous — all sheer nonsense and child’s stuff. Now 
there ’s that other old dotard, Ovid — a good match for Milton — 
2 


18 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


with his metamorphoses — changing women into trees, and 
trees into women; turning the color of mulberries from white 
to red ; driving the chariot of the sun round the world ; scorch- 
ing the African till his hair was kinked, and the devil knows 
what all — it’s so unnatural and puerile that a child would 
blush at his follies.” 

At the conclusion of such criticisms he was generally 
greeted with a burst of hearty laughter from his fellow-col- 
legians. He took it all good-humoredly, but still could not 
be convinced by any process of reasoning that there was 
beauty in poetry. Walter had never experienced an emotion 
of sublimity in his life. A landscape was beautiful to him 
only as it could be converted into a farm. The croaking of a 
frog was as fine music to him as the intonations of a mocking- 
bird, or any air that ever trilled on harp, flute, violin, or 
guitar. And yet, notwithstanding all this, Walter possessed a 
poetical power, of which he himself was unaware, or if he was 
he seemed to undervalue it. This power showed itself some- 
times in his language, when Walter appeared not to know it. 

The reader need not suppose, from what we have said, that 
Walter Hallam is a black-hearted villain of the first cast. In 
the annals of fiction especially it is too much the case that 
the characters are all either semi-angels, beautified and adorned 
with superhuman virtues and graces, or John Murrells, doubly 
steeped in vice, crime, and villainy. Whether Walter was a 
natural villain, we will leave the reader to conclude. We 
deem it sufiScient merely to say that upon first acquaintance 
he would be pronounced a plain, blunt man, with good, ordi- 
nary sense, who placed a value upon things and principles in 
accordance with their .adaptation to the practical purposes of 
life; and such was his external character at the commence- 
ment of this story. If he should grow worse than he is here 
described, it may probably be attributed to the fault of sur- 
rounding circumstances, rather than his own nature. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


19 


Young Hallam received his degree in a Kentucky college 
at the age of twenty-three, in the year eighteen hundred and 
sixty; and before commencing the battle of life in earnest, 
and, besides, his father desiring him to attend to some business 

in the town of , he was paying a visit to Major Burrell, 

his father’s cousin. This relationship was sufficient, as William 
Jones insinuated, to cover the object of his visit (if indeed, he 
had any other object at first than that of a friendly, social 
visit) under the guise of family connection. It is certain, 
though, that Walter had availed himself of this circumstance 
so far as to have remained about two weeks under his cousin’s 
hospitable roof Emily had received and welcomed him with 
sisterly affection. She had treated him with the politeness and 
familiarity due to a relative. It is strangej though, ' that in 
this land of enlightened liberty, where society is characterized 
by so many agreeable features, the “fair sex” is sometimes 
subjected to the mortification of having any extension of warm 
friendship construed into a feeling which was by no means 
intended. This is the case to such an extent that when a 
lady, especially a young lady, entertains the company with a 
ballad containing any sentiment bordering upon love, each 
young “lord” in the room will probably regard it as pecul- 
iarly applicable to himself It is not surprising, therefore, 
if Walter, being a good-looking, rather handsome young man, 
should begin to consider his cousin’s little attentions as 
prompted by feelings warmer than those justified by the ties 
of consanguinity. Still less will it be surprising, that Emily 
being a really beautiful and accomplished girl, attached to a 
splendid inheritance, he should honor her with a due reci- 
procity of emotion. His affection, however, was not of that 
wild, ardent, fiery kind that makes the lover sometimes fall on 
his knees before his adored one, and vehemently say: 

Doubt thou the stars are fire, 

Doubt that the sun doth move. 


20 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Doubt truth to be a liar, 

But never doubt I lovel” 

Walter’s love was strictly in keeping with his character; 
that is, it was of the practical kind. Whether Emily’s worldly 
prospects contributed any thing to the agitation of his tender 
feelings, we will leave the reader to judge. The following 
soliloquy of Walter’s will show in what channel his thoughts 
were flowing; 

“My cousin Emily is a right pretty girl — ^rather bookish, 
though, and inclined to be visionary. She will, nevertheless, 
with proper training, make a very good wife; and I flatter 
myself that she likes me hugely, if nothing more. As for 
love — this puppyism of modern times — she can indulge in to 
her heart’s content. As for myself, I shall love with calmness, 
moderation, and judiciousness, contemning as I do the silly 
ways of petty coxcombry. Love — this spiritual essence, this 
imaginary passion, which exists only in the brain of moon- 
struck poets — is one of the grand humbugs fit only for women. 
Love or no love, a fortune of five hundred thousand and up- 
ward does not fall into one’s hands every day of the year. 
It is certainly worth an efibrt. Probably Emily will inherit 
the old homestead with all its appurtenances; if so. all parties 
consenting, I see no good reason why a marriage can not be 
brought about, and I and my pretty cousin settle down at once 
in our young days, live happily together through life, and die 
peacefully in a good old age, as our ancestors have done. By 
the gods ! I will try the experiment.” 

This was a pleasing picture to Walter; and he was no 
builder of air-castles. Having once resolved to secure his 
cousin and her fortune to himself, he furthermore formed the 
doughty resolution to broach the subject to Emily on the first 
opportunity. Having transacted the business which had 

brought him to the town of , and protracted his stay 

much longer than was his original intention, he deemed it 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


21 


high time to put in practice a portion of his brave resolves. 
We will, however, do Emily the justice to say that she was 
totally unconscious and unsuspicious of the intended honor, 
and of her cousin’s premeditated attack on her single-blessed- 
ness. The opportunity which Walter desired soon presented 
itself. 

One bright, lovely evening, in the early days of the fall of 
eighteen hundred and sixty, Walter and Emily were mounted 
on two spirited chargers, and riding down the avenue that led 
to the road. Turning down the river, the two rode slowly 
and in silence. Emily was gazing around, lost in admiration 
at the transcendentally lovely scene that lay spread out in every 
direction, and had wandered far in thought from her present 
company. Walter seemed not disposed to interrupt her in 
this pleasing employment, busied as he doubtless was with his 
schemes of temporal prosperity, which might have appeared 
to some as the vagaries of a wild dream, but to him as emi- 
nently feasible, and deduced from the calm conclusions of 
a practical judgment. Emily, presently recollecting herself, 
turned to her companion, and spoke with her usual gayety and 
cheerfulness of disposition : 

“What are you thinking of, cousin Walter?” 

“It would be difficult to tell exactly what,” Walter replied, 
slowly. “Nothing, though, of any great importance at the 
instant you spoke.” 

“Probably you were thinking, like I was, of the scene before 
you — of the river, the hills, the trees, the birds, the flowers, 
and a thousand other things that furnish a view worthy the 
painter’s pencil and the poet’s pen.” 

“No, no; I assure you I was thinking of none of these 
things. Your painter’s pencil and your poet’s pen have no 
charms for me, except as the one executes a substantial sign- 
board, and the other writes a good, business-like hand. 
Painters, poets, and all other characters of that description, I 


22 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


look upon as the mere butterflies of life — perfect drones in 
the great bee-hive of society — men who attempt to avoid 
honest labor, and gain a livelihood by palming ofi* their foolish 
written trumpery on their fellow-creatures.” 

“Why, cousin Walter, I am utterly astonished at you! 
You are surely jesting. Do you never read the poets?” 

“ Yes, sometimes I do, but mainly to see with what jingling 
gimcracks mankind can be pleased.” 

“How do you like Milton? You certainly must have been 
highly entertained with ‘Paradise Lost.’ ” 

“Milton was a poor, blind old man, in dotage, who gathered 
up the superstitions and idle tales that pass current among 
negroes and children, and culled an absurd story from this 
heathen nation and that barbarous people, and then fashioned 
it into one methodical mass, and threw it on the world as the 
greatest work of ancient or modern times. I never could see 
any sense or beauty in ‘Paradise Lost.’ There is something 
about it too untangible. It is too much like the dreams of a 
sick man or the strange whims of a lunatic. If the imaginings 
of a child were clothed in the language of poetry, you would 
see as good a poem as can be found in the ridiculous nonsense 
of Milton.” 

Walter was in earnest in what he was saying, and Emily 
was very much surprised, as well as amused, at this, the 
severest stricture she had ever heard upon the prince of 
English poets. 

“What do you say to Byron?” asked Emily, with a quiz- 
zical expression. • 

“ Byron 1 Byron — that dandified upstart, who swore like a 
trooper when the whiteness of his hands was soiled. Why, 
cousin, what could you, or I, or any body else think of a man 
whc has pandered to the worst passions and appetites of 
human nature as he has? What could I think of a man who 
would, either for the means of subsisteuce or for the sake 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


23 


of notoriety, expose the depravity of his own heart to the 
gaze of the world, and then laugh a! the sensation the 
exhibition created? What could I think of a man who has 
turned loose upon the world a stream of corruption that has 
tinged the sentiments of the youth of our land with low 
vulgarisms that a pure-minded being would blush to utter in 
respectable society? I will agree that there are some flights 
of fancy in Byron that seem to be pleasing to certain minds, 
but it is like wading through a sea of molten lava to gather a 
perishing flower.” 

“Well, I declare, cousin Walter, you- are really eloquent in 
censure; and you talk like a preacher. I love to listen to 
your elegant criticisms, even when you rail at my favorite 
authors.” 

“I should be sorry to think, Emily, that Byron is your 
favorite. If he is,” continued Walter, with plain bluntness, 
“I w^ould at least exclude that infamous character. Bon Juan. 
But as I am not remarkably fond of eloquence, music, poetry, 
and the like, and as I am no preacher, and do not wish to 
put you out of humor, I will no longer meddle with your 
favorites.” 

“Cousin Walter,” said Emily, recovering from a momentary 
confusion, “do you recollect that oft-quoted sentiment of 
Shakespeare — 

‘The man that hath no music in himself, 

And is not moved with concord of sweet sound. 

Is fit for treason, stratagems, and spoils.’ ” 

“ Why, yes, I recollect the substance of it. But what of 
that ?” 

“Well, I am afraid,” said Emily, laughing gaily, “as 
Nathan said unto David, ‘Thou art the man.’” 

“Now, my beautiful cous, you are becoming rather- per- 
sonal,” said Walter, not over-well pleased with this appli- 
cation. . • 


24 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“My dear cousin, I meant no offense; I only said it as a 
pleasantry. I will take it all back, and beg your pardon. 
But now, tell me, do n’t you really think this is beautiful : 

‘Eternal Hopei when yonder spheres sublime 
Pealed their first notes to sound the march of time, 

Thy joyous youth began; but not to fade 
When all thy sister planets had decayed. 

Where, wrapt in fire, the realms of ether glow. 

And heaven’s last thunder shakes the woi'ld below. 

Thou," undismayed, shalt o’er the ruins smile. 

And light thy torch at Nature’s funeral pile.’ 

What do you think of that, cousin Walter?” 

“It sounds to me just so,” said Walter: “smile, pile, mile, 
file, quile, tile, style, vile — jingle, rattle — about as musical as 
the bell on yonder cow, that knows not a syllable of poetry.” 

“Well, now, cousin Walter,” she continued, more for amuse- 
ment than any thing else, “did you never walk by moonlight, 
gaze up at the blue, arched vault of heaven, and feel in your 
soul some such sentiment as this: 

‘The sky 

Spreads like an ocean hung on high. 

Bespangled with those isles of light 
So wildly, spiritually bright 1 
Who ever gazed upon them shining 
And turned to earth without repining? 

Nor wished for wings to flee away 
And mix with their eternal ray?’” 

“I would much rather mix with my fellow-creatures, cousin 
Emily, and employ the means of locomotion intended for 
man by nature. I imagine stars would be rather dull com- 
panions, to say nothing of the unsubstantial food furnished 
by their rays.” 

“Walter Hallam!” said Emily, with a mischievous smile, 
“you are the most incorrigible Diogenes I have ever met with. 
Odi profanum vulgus et arceo,'’ she continued, tossing her head 
in mock disdain. “I presume you have read Horace?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPI. 


26 


“Why, certainly; every school boy has read ‘Old Falernian 
Wine.’ ” 

“W^ell, W^alter, I believe I will give you over to hardness 
of heart and reprobacy of mind.” 

“Now don’t do that, my dear cousin, for I am now going 
to convince you I am not hard-hearted, though I can not 
repeat a line from Shakespeare, Milton, and your other favor- 
ites;” and he hesitated as if studying how to commence. 

Emily was totally unsuspicious of Walter’s intentions, so 
she said, with smiling good humor: 

“Well, proceed, Walter; I shall be happy to listen to any 
arguments that shall convince me you are not lost to all sen- 
sibility.” 

“Will you allow me to preface in the shape of a 
question ?” 

Certaimment^ avec pJ^dsir^ qdest ce ? Donnez moi encore 
la langue Franeais, s’ il vous plait 

“Jc Francais meprise^" said Walter, who was not much 
of a French scholar. “Let us speak in English.” 

“ Comme il vom plaira. Proceed.” 

“Well, then, do you ever think of any thing but birds, 
flowers, trees, stars, moonshine, poetry, and the like?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Did you ever — but I will come to the point at once — do 
you ever bestow a thought upon the subject of matrimony?” 

“I can not say,” said Emily, supposing Walter was talking 
in a sportive way, “ that that has ever been much the subject 
of my meditations. It is a plain topic, easily comprehended, 
I imagine, and one upon which I will have ample time to 
reflect. I am only eighteen yet.” 

“ I am aware, cousin Emily, that you are young yet. But 
I ask you, would it not be wise to devote a little time to 
reflection upon a theme which might, in time to come, force 
itself somewhat painfully upon your mind? By postponing it 


26 


. THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


now you may hereafter be necessitated by the mere force of 
circumstances to enter upon married life as a relief from your 
own troubles and sorrows. Your father, you know, is now 
fast becoming old, and must, in the ordinary course of nature, 
soon leave you without a protector. I say without a pro- 
tector, for your brother is your senior but by a few years, 
and, like the majority of young men, will in all probability be 
disposed to ramble over the world, leaving you solitary and 
alone in your desolation. And I imagine the pleasure of 
being an old maid will scarcely compensate for the care and 
trouble absolutely inseparable from such a condition. To live 
alone in the world ; to struggle alone among the giddy throng, 
where all is strife and confusion : to buffet alone the waves that 
rise on the sea of life — such a lifetime, I imagine, cousin 
Emily, will furnish but few reminiscences upon which memory 
can dwell with pleasure.” 

“Why, cousin Walter, you do talk so like a gray-headed 
philosopher; you make me really sad; and in anticipation of 
being an old maid,” she continued, in a spirit of playfulness, 
“I feel like repeating — 

‘Alas for my weary and care-haunted bosom! 

The spells of the spring-time arouse it no more; 

The song in the wildwood, the sheen in the blossom, 

The fresh-swelling fountain — their magic is o’er! 

When I list to the streams, when I look on the flowers. 

They tell of the past with so mournful a tone. 

That I call up the throng of my long-vanished hours. 

And sigh that their transports are over and gone!’ 

It would have been such a beautiful conclusion to your 
harangue, cousin Walter.” 

“Harangue, the devil!” said Walter, in a tone of some 
vexation, and not noticing the uncouth expression which had 
escaped him. “I wonder, Emily, how you can call plain, 
common conversation a harangue!” 

“I beg a thousand pardons,” exclaimed Emily, quickly, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


27 


“I did not intend to wound your feelings. 1 humbly crave 
your forgiveness.” 

“I can easily forgive, if you will not quote any more poetic 
gibberish. It is just as easy, and much more pleasant, I am 
sure, to converse in plain unadulterated English.” 

“ I think, my good kinsman, you are much more of a poet 
and an orator than you are aware of The very images you 
occasionally throw out show that you are not altogether 
destitute of the ‘faculty sublime.’ Take, for instance, ‘the 
waves that rise on the sea of life it is indeed a poetical idea, 
in proper meter too, and would go with boiling, raging, 
tumultuous with strife. Now there is poetry, one line of which 
you composed yourself. Do n’t you see plainly you are a poet?” 

“I am neither poet nor orator, and if you can manufacture 
poetry out of my plain, blunt English, all I have to say is, 
much good may it do you. I do not know that I feel particu- 
larly complimented in being compared to poets, all of whom I 
look upon as mere ciphers in human society. I would muct 
rather be called a good brick-mason.” 

“I am so sorry, cousin Walter, you have such an aversioi 
to vis poetica. I thought, when you first came, we would have 
many a mental stroll into those lofty regions, where, it is said, 
one ‘soared untrodden heights, and seemed at home where 
angels bashful looked;’ but I am disappointed.” 

“Never mind that now; I would be obliged if you would 
postpone this pleasurable poetical employment until some 
more fitting time. Come now, be serious for a short time, and 
listen to me.” 

“I can be serious enough, Walter, if you wish it; but T 
should like to know for what reason.” 

“For a very obvious reason, my dear cousin. Do you 
know I love you?” 

“Why, I hope so, cousin Walter. I love you,” said she, 
looking at him rather doubtfully. 


28 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“ That is the way to talk — right to the point. I thought I 
was not mistaken; and now, both being of one mind, when 
shall we consummate our happiness by a speedy marriage?” 

“0, cousin Walter!” she now quickly cried, comprehending 
it all, “I — I did not mean that; you have utterly miscon- 
strued my language. 0, I did not mean that!” 

“Mean what? Did you not say you loved me?” 

“Why, yes, certainly: as a sister should love a brother — as 
one relative should love another. That was my meaning.” 

“That is meaning enough, my dear Emily. If you love 
me as such, you can love me as a husband distantly related; 
that is all I will ask. I shall not require you to make me an 
idol. I am no believer in puppy worship.” 

“0, cousin Walter!” said she, in surprise, embarrassment, 
and confusion, “ do you, can you mean what you are saying? 
Is it possible you are in earnest?” 

“I was never more so in my life, dear Emily. And why 
should I not be? I see nothing at all inconsistent or im- 
proper in our union. We are both young, and we can settle 
down quietly in our youthful days; live like rational beings, 
contented and happy, and loving each other, as you will have 
it, as relatives, if nothing more. Is it not a pleasing picture, 
and can you not enjoy life with me, who am sober, steady, and 
honest, as well as with any of the contemptible gewgaws, I 
will call them — town dandies — that bow, and cringe, and whine 
around you, with a servility as despicable as it is deceitful.” 

‘•Why, we are cousins. Walter, and I have an utter abhor- 
iCEL^e of family marriages. Besides, you would not marry a 
prison who does not love you, and whom you could not love?” 

“I would not marry one, Emily, whom I could not respect 
ati-d esteem. If you mean that sickly, sentimental stuff, which 
the morbid sensibility of a puny-minded novelist would call 
love, that represents sensible men and women as fondling 
puppies and kittens, I fear I have none of it; if, however, by 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


29 


love you mean admiration of a sensible man or lady, lasting 
regard and profound respect for their excellent principles and 
qualities of mind and heart, I profess to have a due share of 
itj and I here bestow it all on my fair and lovely cousin.” 

Emily was now silent in painful embarrassment. It was 
utterly impossible for one of her ardent nature to love such a 
cold, passionless, insensible creature as her cousin Walter 
Hallam appeared to be. And it was so palpable that his 
love, if he could be said to be inspired with any portion of 
that sacred feeling, was so entirely secular in its character that 
she shuddered at the bare thought of such an unholy union. 
He was her relative, however, and she must spare him, and 
extricate herself from this unpleasant dilemma with as little 
pain as possible to his feelings. She was revolving in her 
mind the most judicious way to do this, when Walter asked: 

“And what says my dear Emily to this proposal?” 

“I fear, cousin Walter, we could never agree.” 

“And why not, my fair one?” 

“Why, the conversation we have had this evening shows 
very plainly there is no congeniality of taste and feeling 
between us.” 

“How do you make that out, Emily?” 

“Well, then, to illustrate,” said she, playfully, “I will 
suppose a case. Suppose we were united, as you desire, and 
commence to ‘settle down,’ as you call it. Imprimis, we 
would build a nice little cottage in some pleasant spot. Then 
may be I would say, ‘My dear Walter, here is a spot so nice 
for a flower garden; let us have one.’ Your reply would very 
likely be, ‘No, no; I intend this for an Irish potato patch, or 
a turnip patch.’ Of course I should feel considerable disap- 
pointment, and be inclined to pout. I would want our yard 
decorated with shrubs and flowers; you would want it planted 
in water-melons. I would want a nice little library, where 
you would desire a wardrobe, or may be a cupboard. You 


30 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


would have a fence where I would’ wish white palings. 1 
would ramble by moonlight, and you would walk in sunshine. 
I would be gazing at the stars, while you would probably be 
nodding. You would want your, buttons sewed on, while I 
would be reading the poets. T would want to sing, with my 
guitar, while you may be would desire to call the hogs. I 
would be engaged with my painting, when you would want 
me to milk the cows. 0, cousin Walter, do n’t you see we 
never could agree?” 

“Certainly not, if yours is a true picture.” 

“It may be somewhat exaggerated and overdrawn, but in 
the main it is correct — quite correct.” 

“ I should be sorry to think so, Emily. You may depend 
upon it I shall not attempt to deprive you of a single pleasure 
you may desire. You can have as many flower gardens as is 
agreeable to you. You can sing, play, and read as much as 
you please without fear of disturbance from me. You must 
not take me to be a perfect old curmudgeon. I am not as 
indifferent as you seem disposed to believe to amusements — 
rational amusements. I like singing, playing, reading, and 
the like well enough — all in their proper places and at the 
proper time. But I can see no good sense in devoting one’s 
whole life to abstractions. What good can possibly result 
from always gazing at the stars and forever reading poetry? 
And why should life be spent in the pursuit of such useless 
follies, when so much can be done for the good of our fellow- 
creatures? I imagine it is not my duty to be forever poring 
over the extravagances of Milton, or any other poet, when 
I might cause the wilderness to blossom and bring forth good 
fruit, and thus contribute to the relief of suffering man. Why 
can you not take this view of the subject?” 

“ I own there is some good sense in what you are saying, 
cousin Walter; but then you are too much of a philosopher, 
too practical, too matter-of-fact for one of my disposition. I 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


31 


must have some one to love — some one to worship and adore. 
Men may do very well without this folly, as you think it, but 

‘Alas, the love of woman! it is known 
To be a lovely and a fearful thing; 

For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, 

And if ’t is lost, life hath no more to bring 
To them but mockeries of the past alone.’ ” 

“I would be much obliged to you, Emily, if you would talk 
to me in prose. I can understand it better than poetry.” 

“Now that goes to illustrate further what I have said,” 
replied Emily. “For I should sometimes — very frequently, 
perhaps — repeat poetry; and if now you chide me, or even 
signify your displeasure, you would, when married, give me 
a positive scolding for every offense of that kind. 0, we 
never could agree, cousin Walter — we never could agree.” 

“ I am not so certain of that, Emily, as you seem to be. 
I think we could agree, at least, as well as other people do. 
We are not to expect perfect happiness. I do not, and I pre- 
sume you do not, expect to find a paradise on this earth. We 
oould live happily, contentedly, and agreeably together, and 
that is about as much as one need calculate on in this life.” 

“You probably might live happily, cousin Walter, but. I 
could not. 0, when I marry, if I must marry, my husband 
must be idolized in my heart. He must be next to the Crea- 
tor in my affections. He must be one whom I can lean upon 
in perfect, trusting confidence — one who can feel some sym- 
pathy with the wild emotions that struggle in my breaSt for 
utterance — one Into whose listening ear I can pour the tale of 
my little, womanish sufferings, trials, cares, and anxieties, 
without the fear of meeting a stern rebuke or reproof” 

“Probably you already have such a one in your mind?”- 
■ “No, Walter, I will.be candid with you; I have not. In 
fact I have rarely ever thought of this subject, at least in a 
serious way. But I do assure you I will never surrender my 


32 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


hand and heart to any, unless it be to such a one as I have 
feebly and briefly described. I can imagine no worse fate to 
poor woman than to be linked, in the closest intimacy, with a 
person whose presence she can tolerate only for the sake of 
his solid and manly virtues. He should be the light of her 
existence — a part of herself, whose absence would be like the 
deprivation of one of her limbs. But I have said more on 
this subject than Idntended. Come, let us change it; for it is 
any thing but a pleasant topic to me. I would much rather 
talk of Milton, Shakespeare, Byron, or some literary subject.” 

“ I will not insist on your answer now, Emily. But I hope 
you will reflect seriously upon my proposal, and give me a 
favorable reply. I do not utterly despair from what you have 
said. I know women are strange beings, and often mean the 
very reverse of what they say.” 

“And I know,” replied Emily, “that men are often very 
presumptuous and bigoted; and sometimes, under an appear- 
ance of candor, conceal the worst form of hypocrisy and deceit.” 

“ That may be so ; but we will not quarrel about the virtues 
and vices of the two sexes. Think about what I have pro- 
posed, and give me an answer as soon as you have decided.” 

“I can tell you now what that answer will be.” 

“I would rather not hear it now, because you have not 
weighed the subject with the care and attention it merits.” 

Emily made no reply. She thought her cousin was very 
dull of comprehension, or very obstinate not to have discovered 
her resolution and her meaning at once. But she had too 
much respect for her practical relative to wound his feelings 
unnecessarily; and she now determined to wait, and devise 
some lenient means to persuade him to desist from his purpose. 
She thought he was a strange being, and practiced a kind of 
strange courtship, but Emily was too kind-hearted to obey, at 
this stage of proceedings, the Scriptural advice of Solomon— 
“Answer a fool according to his folly.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


33 


After a brisk ride they had now reached the house. That 
night Emily reflected seriously upon some circumstances which 
Walter had said might, nay, must ere long occur, and her 
dreams were troubled. She saw her aged father lying upon 
his death-bed, and Walter Hallam standing near by, imploring 
the old man to make his will. The will was made. Hallam 
was handing to Major Burrell a pen to sign the instrument, 
when a stranger abruptly entered, snatched up the paper, and 
disappeared. The whole scene then faded away, but not until 
it had made an impression upon her mind which she did not 
soon forget. The impression was disagreeable in its character, 
and unfavorable to Walter. The next morning, therefore, 
when she arose, it was in vain she attempted to banish the 
thoughts which disturbed her mind, and assume her usual 
appearance of cheerfulness. 


34 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER III. 

Along the woods, along the moorish fens, 

Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm; 

And up among the loose disjointed cliffs, 

And fractur’d mountains wild, the brawling brook 
And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan, 

Resounding long in listening fancy’s ear.” 

About ten o’clock the next day subsequent to that upon 
which Walter Hallam had made a proposal of marriage to his 
cousin, a solitary traveler might have been seen ‘slowly riding 
along the road that ran in front of Major Burrell’s residence. 
The horseman was distant nearly two miles from the house: 
and halting upon an eminence that commanded a view of ‘the 
country for a great distance in all directions, he gazed around 
in speechless admiration at the splendid scenery. There stood 
the tall, white dwelling, Igoming high amid the grand old 
oaks, which had escape's the woodman’s ax, and withstood 
the storms of centuries. The gentle breeze, creeping from 
leaf to leaf, had sighed among their venerable branches, that 
bore marks of past resistance to the rude attacks of time. 
But now not even a light zephyr caused the green leaves 
to rustle. There was the clear river rolling slowly on in 
mournful silence, as if its pellucid waters were reluctant to 
leave a scene so calm and bright, and mix with the turbulent 
surf of the sea. There were the beautiful hills rising, one 
after another, in seemingly studied regularity, marshaled in 
the order of a solid phalanx as if for sturdy combat, stretching 
out far in the distance, till the eye beheld a blue streak linked 
with the horizon; then crossing the river, and forming a com- 
plete circle, and thus enclosing as lovely a scene as could be 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


35 


found under the wide canopy of heaven. A bright sun 
looked down from fairer than far-famed Italy’s smiling skies, 
pouring forth his fructifying rays, enlivening and cheering 
nature, throughout all her various ramifications. It was one 
of those calm, quiet, mysterious hours, when scarcely a sound 
disturbs the dead, solemn silence. All nature was hushed. 
Not even a bird, with its shrill carols, agitated the awe- 
imposing stillness. It seemed as if creation were buried in 
profound slumber. 

A close observer would have .discovered in all this and in 
other signs the unmistakable precursor of a sudden change in 
the weather; but the horseman heeded them not. He still 
paused, and seemed apparently lost in thought, and unob- 
servant of a small black cloud that was now beginning to rise 
slowly and darkly above the horizon. A weather-spy would 
merely have glanced at these silent indications of an approach- 
ing hurricane, and then, proving his faith by his works, would 
have rapidly betaken himself to some place of shelter and 
safety. But the horseman was not weather-wise; or, if he 
was, he manifested indifference in regard to the matter, and 
sat on his horse, unconscious, in appearance, of natural events 
transpiring in the physical world, while his faithful steed was 
leisurely cropping the tender grass that grew by the road- 
side. He gave loose reins both to the anima;! and to his 
thoughts. If our readers should feel any curiosity to know 
the nature of the reflections in which the traveler was ab- 
sorbed, he can read as follows: 

“ 0, who can look upon such a scene and not say, in his 
heart, ‘In wisdom hast thou made them all?’ Who can 
comprehend the purposes of the Eternal Mind, that called 
this vast universe into being? Why are so many beauties 
scattered throughout the earth? Why do the wild flowers 
bloom in the uninhabited wilderness? Why does the land- 
scape spread out in peerless splendor? Why do the hills and 


36 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


mountains rise in unequaled majesty? Why does the blue 
sky stretch out its vast covering, bedecked at night with 
myriads of glittering gems? Why does yon glorious orb of 
light pursue, with faithful regularity, his trackless course 
through space — bring joy to the heart of suffering mortality? 
Have all these objects been created for man — poor, puny 
man? Indeed, ‘what is man, that thou takest knowledge of 
him, or the Son of man, that thou takest account of him?’ 
Can it he possible that this vast universe was shaped for the 
pleasure of such a weak-minded being? He passes through 
the earth unmindful of the numberless grand mysteries that 
crowd around him at every step. The volume of nature lies 
open before him, but he reads not a line. The earth exposes 
her millions of treasures to his gaze, but he passes on in 
sinful indifference, gathering up trifles that afford but a 
momentary pleasure to his body, and rarely bestowing a 
thought upon the eternal future, and his own destiny in 
relation thereto. Strange, incomprehensible being! how in- 
consistent are thy ways, considered in reference to thy eternal 
destiny!” 

We have penned these disjointed reflections to demonstrate 
two facts: flrst, that the subject of this chapter was a young 
man, and second, that he was inclined to be rdigieux^ as the 
French say — both of which facts we think the reader, if he 
be thoughtful, can deduce from the preceding thoughts. 

The storm was coming on, but still the traveler changed 
not his position. Cloud after cloud had now arisen in murky 
and ominous gloom, until a quarter of the heavens presented 
a threatening aspect. They rolled up, mixing and mingling, 
as if combining their force and uniting their strength for a 
frightful attack on the earth below. A low, muttering, heavy 
sound could now be heard murmuring feebly in the distance, 
and a light gale rustled for a moment among the trees, and 
then died away. The reader need no^ suppose our traveler 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


37 


was afflicted with deafness, because he heard not these slight 
sounds. Whether he was or not, he continued to pursue 
pretty much the same train of reflection: 

“I wonder how man, with his mighty powers of intellect, 
could ever have worshiped senseless, graven images! It 
seems, though, that the human mind naturally clings to the 
idea of a divinity — naturally forms the conclusion, from a 
sense of its own dependence, that homage and gratitude are 
due to some intelligence of a higher order than itself. Even 
inanimate idols, fashioned and shaped by man’s hand, are 
supposed to possess virtues and powers which divine truth 
teaches can be attributed only to God. Nevertheless, heathen 
mythology, with a god or goddess representing every virtue, 
vice, and passion, notwithstanding some of its palpable 
absurdities, is a beautiful system. Jupiter with his thunder- 
bolt — Neptune with his trident — Vulcan with his forge — 
Juno, the proud queen of the skies — Venus, the beauty—; 
Diana, the embodiment of chastity — are all beautiful concep- 
tions of the mind, which could not be bettered in the absence 
of eternal truth. Yet how utterly insignificant when compared 
with the present great system of Christianity, which, by the 
force of its own internal evidence, appealing to the heart and 
reason of man, has banished the superstitions and myths of 
ages! The idea of a Supreme Unity, combining all the 
elements of power, greatness, and grandeur, could never be 
deduced from any evidence of nature. It required a direct 
communication, a revelation traced by the finger of the One 
himself, to furnish man with the true history of his own 
existence. And the Bible with all its mysteries, its per- 
emptory c:mmandments, its inimitable parables, its striking 

metaphors, its glorious imagery, its” 

The thought was not completed; for at that moment a 
strong gust of wind burst upon the traveler in all its fury, 
and carried his hat a short distance up the road. Thus 


38 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


suddenly recalled to himself, he looked up in astonishment 
at the change which had taken place in so brief a space 
of time. The whole heaven was now black; the thunder 
roared terribly; the lightning flashed with blinding effect; 
and gust after gust howled madly on. The traveler hastily 
dismounted, leaving his steed unfastened, seized his hat, and 
had turned to remount, when a large dead oak fell with a 
deafening crash immediately behind him. A few of the 
scattering fragments struck the faithful horse, that now reared 
and plunged, and then, deserting his master, flew up the 
road, like a frightened deer, with the speed of the wind. 
The traveler seemed a little perplexed, but he thought of 
old Timon, and the idea appeared to amuse him to such 
an extent that he suddenly jerked off his hat, and ex- 
claimed aloud: 

** * Blow wind, and crack your cheeks ! rage 1 blow 1 
You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout 
Till you have drenched our steeples, drown’d the cocks 1 
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires. 

Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, 

Singe my black head 1 And thou, all-shaking thunder, 

Strike fiat the thick rotundity o’ the world 1 
Crack nature’s moulds, all germens spill at once, 

That make ingrateful man 1’ ” 

The quondam horseman, now become a pedestrian, then 
clapped his hat on his head, an^ made rapid strides in the 
direction which his horse had taken. 

The storm soon began to rage with perfect fury. The 
heavens became intensely black ; the forked lightnings, in zig- 
zag form, flashed athwart the dark clouds, and was then fol- 
lowed by thunder so loud, harsh, and terrific, it seemed as if the 
very foundations of nature were tearing up in convulsions, and 
that the artillery of heaven, doubly charged, was playing on a 
doomed world. The jSlolian cavern had been opened, and the 
winds, laboring under no restraint, came raging, tearing, and 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


39 


howling on, sweeping down sturdy trees in their mad career, 
bearing on birds which had been rudely disturbed in their 
lofty retreats, and whose wild, piercing notes could he dis- 
tinctly heard above the din and confusion of the storm. The 
attack had begun in earnest. It was a fearful manifestation of 
heaven’s power. 0, who has not in such an hour felt a sense 
of his own insignificance and utter dependence, and his own 
inability to exist, for even a single moment, without aid from 
on high? Who has not felt in his heart, amid the wild com- 
motion of such a storm, that “God reigneth?” The scoffing 
skeptic, amid the howl of the hurricane, methinks, would offer 
up a silent prayer, and promise himself, if spared, to show 
more reverence in future lo Him “ who plants his footstep on 
the sea, and rides upon the storm.” 

Some such thought as this was in the mind of the traveler, 
who now, after the lapse of twenty-five minutes, had nearly 
reached the foot of the long avenue that led to Major Bur- 
rell’s residence. He continued to walk rapidly on. But now 
a few big drops began to descend, and in a moment after- 
ward the rain poured down in liquid torrents. The traveler, 
whose aim was to reach the dwelling before him, was forced 
to take shelter under the boughs of a broad-spreading oak 
that stood hard ’by the road-side. He had scarcely taken a 
position that afforded some protection against the drenching 
rain, when a blinding streak momentarily relieved the partial 
darkness, gleamed for an instant among the clouds, but halted 
not. Its mission was not there. Cutting through the air like 
a merciless missile of death, it bolted straight as an arrow to 
the tree that sheltered the weary footman. Striking near the 
top, it burst the tough old oak to the roots. A sharp, keen, 
appalling crash followed in its wake, and the poor traveler lay 
stretched out as a dead man. It was fortunate for him, how- 
ever, that the noble tree, notwithstanding the severe treatment 
it had received, yet stood in shattered splendor and injured 


40 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


majesty. Otherwise his own mother might not have recog- 
nized the mutilated form of her son. With something like 
pitying kindness it still held out its overhanging branches 
above the head of the senseless man; and the big drops that 
dripped from its boughs on the poor prostrate child of earth 
seemed like tears for the fate of a stranger, whose life it had 
interposed its own huge body to save. 

The storm raged and the rain continued to pour down in 
unabated fury; but at the expiration of one hour, however, 
it began to show evident signs of weariness. Its malice was 
gratified; the wind was hushed; the rain slackened by de- 
grees, and then entirely ceased. Only an occasional distant 
growl of the thunder could be hfeard rumbling amid the 
clouds, which began to break and disunite, and then to sail 
rapidly away, like the discomfited forces of a flying army. 
The sun — grand source of light — soon shone out clear and 
brilliant from a smiling sky. The birds came forth, rejoicing 
in their glad songs that the contest, was over. Nothing now 
remained to indicate the visit of the storm, except the drops 
glittering like gems in the sunshine, which fell lazily from the 
boughs ; and the trees, which, lying here and there, had yielded 
to the fury of the stubborn attack, and lay like the dead left 
on a gory field of carnage; and the remains of a disappearing 
rainbow which had expanded across the dome of the world — 
God’s own immutable promise to man, written in the skies, 
that no more shall the earth be submerged amid the deluge 
of waters. 

Our poor traveler still lay at the foot of the tree perfectly 
motionless and unconscious. He had fallen on his back at 
full length. His hat, which had been knocked off by the 
terrible concussion, had been blown into the middle of the 
road. The right arm lay across the fallen man’s breast — the 
hand on his heart; the other was clutching in a death-like 
grasp a low bush that grew at his side. The eyes were closed, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


41 


and his pale, colorless face was upturned to the bright blue 
sky. His white teeth could be seen through his bloodless 
lips that were but partially closed. If he breathed at all, it 
could not be perceived. Reader, we have only to conclude 
this chapter with— 

^‘God moves in a mysterious way 
His wonders to perform.” 


42 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER IV. 


Death should come 

Gently to one of gentle mould like thee, 

As light winds, wandering through groves of bloom, 

Detach the delicate blossoms from the tree| 

Close thy sweet eyes calmly and without pain. 

And we will trust in God to see thee yet again.” 

It was one o’clock. Major Burrell, Walter, and Emily sat 
down to a sumptuous repast, which was dispatched in silence 
on the part of the two younger persons. The Major, how- 
ever, rattled away, with the usual garrulity of age. .Hallam 
seemed disposed to listen, and Emily was making fruitless 
attempts to banish the disagreeable dream which she had had 
in reference to her cousin. 

“I should like to know,” said the Major, “whose horse that 
was which I had put up in the stable — a most noble and well- 
formed animal. I am fearful some traveler has been caught 
in the storm, and thrown from his horse. The animal reminds 
me of one which I once owned, when a young man like you, 
Walter. He was a large, coal-black, well-built horse, and 
powerfully muscled. I have n’t seen such an animal in many 
a day. He had a bow neck, a large fiery eye, and wide 
expanding nostrils. Well, I lost him in just such a storm as 
we ’ve had. I recollect it as well as if it had happened but 
yesterday; it was the 24th day of April — my birth-day, by 
the way — and I was twenty-two years of age. I had started 
out that morning — it was bright and gay — to see a little girl 
who lived not far from here. All boys, you know, Walter, 
have sweethearts, and so I had one. Well, I was riding 
along the road in a nice little lope, when I was suddenly over- 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


43 


taken by a storm. How the wind did blow! I spurred my 
noble horse to bis full speed. He went flying along like 
lightning, when- a dead tree, standing by the road, fell right 
across my poor horse’s neck. On I went, and was thrown 
about thirty feet from my fallen charger. The faithful crea- 
ture was instantly killed, and I was considerably bruised. I 
could not help shedding tears for the fate of that horse; and 
I had him decently buried. ” 

In much the same strain the Major rattled on till the meal 
was finished. • Then Emily retired to her own room, reflecting 
how she should rid herself of her cousin’s addresses without 
inflicting pain to his feelings. It seemed to her that he con- 
sidered their ultimate marriage as a sort of a settled thing, 
when such an idea was quite remote from her thoughts, and 
was any thing but agreeable. He went about his courtship in 
so cold a manner — so much like it was a mere civil contract of 
partnership, in which feeling and affection were to be ignored — 
that she shuddered with holy horror at the prospect of such 
a. worldly alliance. Then his feelings and his tastes were so 
utterly incompatible with her own. He appeared not to relish 
.a single thing that could furnish pleasure to One of her sen- 
sitive mind. The more she reflected, the more determined she 
was to tell him plainly and flatly and positively, in such a 
manner that her meaning could not be mistaken, that his 
attentions in that way were quite disagreeable and unpleasant; 
and that the sooner they were terminated the better it would 
be for all the parties concerned; that they never could be any 
thing to each other more than cousins: lovers — never, never. 

About three o’clock Emily was aroused by a gentle rap 
on her door. Arising and opening it, she, in some embar- 
rassment, beheld her cousin Walter. She could not but 
think of the old saying, “Speak of the devil and he ’ll 
appear;” for she was aid had been thinking of her un- 
ceremonious kinsman. 


44 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“I thought, cousin Emily,” said he, “you would like to 
ride this evening; so I have had the horses saddled, and 
have come to let you know they are ready. I presume you. 
wish to ride ?” 

She readily assented, thinking this would be a favorable 
opportunity to carry into effect her resolution if the subject 
of marriage should be adverted to. Hastily donning her 
riding-habit, she announced herself ready; and the two were 
soon seen pacing down the avenue. Nothing was spoken till 
they had reached the road, when Emily said ; 

• “ There has been a dreadful storm, cousin Walter. Look 
at the trees lying around in every direction. I was so busily 
engaged when it came on that I had no idea such a havoc 
was taking place.” 

But Walter made no reply to this remark. He was looking 
intently at a dark object in the road, to which he called 
Emily’s attention. 

“It is a hat,” said Walter, dismounting as soon as he had 
reached it. “ Some traveler has lost it in the storm. I expect 
some accident has happened. I will warrant this belongs to 
the owner of the horse that is now secure at the house.” 

“0, heavens! Look, cousin Walter, look!” exclaimed 
Emily, pale with sudden fright, and pointing to the prostrate 
form of our still unconscious traveler. Walter hastened to 
the fallen man and examined his pulse. 

“ Quick, Enaily, quick ! he may be saved if treated prop- 
erly. Bun to the house and send help.” 

Emily, with the instincts of true benevolence all alive, 
turned and almost flew to the house. In a few hurried words 
she explained to her father what had happened. The old 
man summoned three or four domestics, and then went rapidly 
to the relief of the sufferer. He soon reached the spot to 
which he had been directed, and found Walter busily endeav- 
oring to restore the poor man to life. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 45 

“Does lie still live, Walter?” asked the Major, approaching. 

“Life u nearly extinct, sir; but he may be saved.” 

“My God!” exclaimed the old man, when he surveyed the 
fine form before him, “ what a pity I He must be saved, if 
possible. Here, Dick, build a litter; and you, Walter, mount 
and run for Dr. Johnson.” 

“You forget. Major, that I never saw Dr. Johnson in my 
life, and have no idea of his locality.” 

“That’s a fact, boy, to be sure. Jim, mount that horse 
and fly for Dr. Johnson! Quick — like the very devil was 
after you! Do you hear, boy?” 

“Yes, sar;” and the black thus addressed jumped on the 
animal, and, taking his master at his word, went dashing and 
splashing, indeed, as if his Satanic Majesty were in full pur- 
suit, with a whole legion of sooty followers. The rude litter 
was soon constructed, and the youth, more dead than alive, 
was gently placed thereon, and then borne with as much ra- 
pidity as his condition and the circumstances would allow. 
Arriving at the house, the body was deposited on a clean, soft 
bed, and such restoratives as the medical experience of Major 
Burrell, which was rather limited, suggested were immediately 
applied. The young man, however, lay still, and exhibited no 
signs of returning consciousness. The Major walked the floor 
uneasily; now going to the door to see if the physician were 
coming, and then returning to the bedside of the unfortunate 
traveler. Two hours had now elapsed. The Major had com- 
pletely exhausted his store of medical knowledge, and still 
Dr. Johnson had not arrived. Major Burrell, for the fiftieth 
time, felt the pulse of his patient. 

“So help me God, Walter, the young man is dead!” 
exclaimed Mijor Burrell, in a tone of the greatest excite- 
ment. 

Walter, who had been sitting silent all this time, hastily 
moved to the bedside. He felt the pulse, and then the heart. 


46 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Both were apparently still; and the hands, feet, and, in fact^ 
whole bod}' were cold. 

“You are correct, sir; he is indeed dead.” 

Both now examined more carefully, but not a sign of life 
could be detected. They were satisfied he was no more. 

“ What a pity that one so young and handsome should die, 
unknown and unrecognized! But search the pockets, Walter; 
probably something may be found, by means of which he 
can be identified. His friends should know, if possible, his 
untimely fate.” 

Walter did as he was requested, and, feeling in the vest 
pockets, drew forth a small miniature agid a letter. It was in 
a plain, round, and to him strikingly familiar hand. He read 
the direction aloud to the Major — “Mr. Henry S. Winston, 
State University, Oxford, Mississippi.” 

“I do declare,” exclaimed Major Burrell, “I believe it’s 
the nephew of old General Winston ! I heard him say, a few 
days ago, that he was looking for his nephew to visit him. 
Poor old man 1 how awfully will he be affected 1 But I must 
let him know it at once. If you will remain here, Walter, I 
will drop a line to the General.” Then spreading a snow- 
white sheet over the corpse, he left the apartment. 

Walter sat down leisurely, and slowly opened the miniature. 
He started in amazement. No, he could hot be mistaken; 
the features were plain and well-defined. He beheld too 
truly the picture of his own sister, who had been dead but a 
few weeks. He now tore open the letter, and recognized at 
once his sister’s well-known handwriting. He perused hastily 
the contents, which were as follows: 

“Oak Grove, Kt., August 16, 1859. 

“Mr. Winston: I can not call you dear Henry, as I formerly 
did. I do not know why I should write you this letter, unless 
it be to try to relieve my aching heart. 0, how I have suf- 
fered! God only knows what I have felt. 1 have never breathed 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


47 




a single syllable of our unfortunate love to a living mortal. I 
have suffered all alone — alone! They treat me as if I were 
mac?, Henry; and it may be I am. Sometimes I know I act very 
strangely, even to myself. 0, Henry, how you would pity me if 
you could see me wandering all alone in the grove, and playing 
such mournful airs I 0, how it makes me weep! Tears are such 
a blessed relief. Do you ever weep? I acknowledge I acted 
rashly, but it is too late to apologize now. I thought you were 
going to deceive me. 0, I loved you — how deeply and truly ! My 
heart was so true to you that it was false to itself and God! You 
know not how I loved you! But you frightened me so on that 
dreadful occasion. I can never be happy again in this world. 
Your image on my heart was the God I worshiped. I ought not 
to say this, Henry, but it matters not now. I am still true to 
you, though I should not confess it now. But, Henry, before 
this reaches you, -I shall be in the cold grave. I am dying by 
inches. I feel it in my heart. I shall welcome death. I long 
-to die, and join the sweet angels, whose songs I can hear some- 
times ringing out so clear and beautiful. I want to be with 
them, Henry; and I know I shall soon be one of them. I will 
then watch over your pathway, and try to guide you on to the 
heavenly land I Can’t you sometimes think of poor Carrie? 
Won’t you remember her sometimes when you stroll by moon- 
light as we used to do? I can’t write any more, Henry. This 
sheet is all stained and blotted with my tears; and my- poor 
head swims so. Now, Henry, farewell forever. I bid you an 
eternal adieu. May God and his holy angels bless you; and 
may we meet in the bright world above. 

“ Carrie Hallam.” 

Walter deliberately refolded the document, and thrust it 
into his pocket. 

“This, then,” thought he, “accounts for the strange freaks 
of my poor, mad sister. Her letter bears the unmistakable 
marks of a deranged intellect. Poor thing! she died, within a 
few days after it was written, of a broken heart. She seems 
to have forgotten that this young man had left Oxford, for 
I see the letter was forwarded, on the 30th of the same month, 
to Holly Springs, Mississippi, his probable place of residence. 


48 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


I always suspected that my sister’s affections were strangely 
entangled ; but, as she says, not a word escaped her as to the 
cause of her melancholy and her madness. And this man 
that now lies before me, cold and rigid, was the cause of her 
untimely death. It is probable the thunderbolt struck him 
down in the bloom and beauty of youth as a just retribution 
for the atrocity of his conduct. It may be after all the unfor- 
tunate man is not so much to blame as I believe. My, sister, 
in her disconnected letter, does not directly charge him with 
faithlessness. There is. though, something mysterious about 
the whole affair, which I do not understand. What is meant 
by ‘that dreadful occasion’ I have not the slightest idea. My 
sister, however, was a delicately organized girl, and serious 
disappointment of any kind would have discomposed her in- 
tellect. I do not understand the matter ; but there is no use 
in speculating concerning it. They are both dead now, and 
I hope have met where that happiness can be enjoyed which 
was denied on earth. Though I lay no claim to religion 
myself, I hope they are both in heaven.” 

He was here interrupted in his thoughts by the entrance of 
Major Burrell, who, seating himself and remarking that he 
had sent for General Winston, asked: 

“Did the letter contain any thing of importance, Walter, or 
have you read it?” 

“I have, sir. It contains nothing of the least interest to 
any body except the person to whom it was written and the 
friends of the writer.” 

Major Burrell was satisfied with this reply, and asked no 
other question. A profound silence now reigned throughout 
the chamber of death. Twilight was ‘ creeping slowly on, 
gradually chasing away the fast-fading remains of the de- 
parted day. The noises without — the lowing of the cattle, 
the noisy cackling of poultry seeking the roost, the loud, 
boisterous songs of the field hands returning home from their 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 49 

daily labor — all contrasted strangely with the deep stillness 
within. 

The corpse h;id been carefully laid out on a wide plank, 
either end of which rested on a chair placed near the middle 
of the room. Not far from thjs sat Major Burrell and Walter 
Ha 11am, both seemingly buried in thought. Their meditations 
were doubtless of a serious character. However, all at once a 
loud, piercing scream was heard from the boughs of a stumpy 
oak that stood not more than thirty yards from the house. 
Major Burrell started. 

'“Confound the owl!” said he; “I never could endure them, 
Walter, since the death of my good mother. She died just 
about this hour in the evening. I remember it so distinctly. 
I was thinking of the unhappy circumstance when the shriek 
of that hateful bird brought the sad event more forcibly and 
painfully to my mind. The company that were sitting with 
my mother’s corpse were seized with consternation at the wild, 
unearthly shriek of an owl that had alighted unseen in the 
window. It made my blood run cold. Since then the hoot 
of that bird has always appeared to me to forbode evil.” 

Walter was about to make a remark in reply, but at that 
moment a venerable old man, with long, gray hair, abruptly 
entered the apartment. His look was wild, and his aged form, 
now somewhat bent with the weight of years, shook and 
trembled with agony and anguish truly pitiable. Major 
Burrell arose. 

“General Winston,” said he, offering his hand. 

But the person thus addressed saw him not. His eyes 
were riveted on the inanimate form before him, that lay cold 
and still in the embrace of death. Hastily advancing, he 
raised the covering, and gazed for a moment on the rigid 
features of the corpse in speechless horror; then, falling on 
his knees, he cried, in tremulous accents: 

“0, God, have mercy! It is my poor boy— my nephew I 
4 


50 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Lord, pity a miserable old man ! I can hardly bear this. 0, 
Henry, my poor, poor child, it is hard to give thee up!” 

The wretched old man wrung his shriveled hands in a 
paroxysm of inconsolable grief. Great tears chased each other 
down his wrinkled cheeks, and then bedewed the pale face 
of his senseless nephew. It was deeply affecting to witness 
the poignant sorrow of age, tottering from the ravages of 
twelve score seasons, over beautiful youth stricken down on 
the threshold of blooming manhood. Major Burrell was 
deeply moved. He, however, suffered the old man to indulge 
in his feelings of anguish till nature should produce that calm 
which invariably follows the outbursts of violent grief. Pres- 
ently taking him by the hand, he said, kindly : 

“My dear old friend, I deeply sympathize with you in your 
distress; but you must be reconciled to this sad bereavement. 
Arise and be seated;” and he led the old man to a chair. 

“O, Major, this blow will nearly kill me!” 

“I know it, General; it is sad and distressing, and I. wish I 
could offer you consolation.” 

“I am now,” continued the General, in a trembling and 
broken voice, “ I am now entirely alone in the world. This 
poor boy was all that was left to me, and now he is gone. I 
once had, you know. Major, a blooming family. I rejoiced 
and thanked God in my heart for giving me so many blessings. 
O, how • cheerful, contented, and happy we were! But I 
worshiped my wife and little ones too much. God would 
not suffer me to adore human idols. My dear, blessed wife 
soon died of the measles; and then my sweet babes — little 
innocent things — followed, one after the other, and now they 
are all gone, all gone!” And the General sobbed like a 
child. 

“ I know. General, what you feel. I can sympathize with 
you; for I once, like you, had a family around me, and they 
left me, one by one, as yours did, until only two remain to 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


51 


comfort me in my old age ” And the Major, thus recalling 
these sad events of the past, could not refrain from tears. 

The two old men, both now tottering on the verge of eter- 
nity, wept together over the bereavements which each had 
sustained. Walter Hallam arose and left the apartment. 

“There were only two of us,” said General Winston, after 
a moment, “there were only two of us— my brother John and 
I. He removed to Mississippi when a young man. I had 
scarcely recovered from the first effects of my own sorrows, 
when I was stunned by the intelligence that my brother’s 
family had all died of yellow fever, except one; and there lies 
that one now, a corpse. 0, God, have mercy !” After a brief 
pause the grief-stricken man continued : “ I have nothing now 
to live for. This poor boy was coming to my home to glad 
^my old heart once more before I should die; but God, in the 
fullness of his wisdom, has deprived me of that pleasure. I 
am a poor old man now — all alone — not a single relative in the 
world. It is wicked to wish to die. Major, but I hope God 
will see fit to soon take me from my miseries. I have endeav- 
ored to serve him faithfully for many years now; I have 
fought with the true Christians under the banner of the Lowly 
One, and I hope soon to join the host that has crossed the 
flood. God in his mercy will not permit the old soldier long 
to survive his companions who have all fallen victims to death. 
I trust I shall be ready to meet the summons when it comes. 
0, I long to rejoin my dear ones, who have slept for years 
now in the old church-yard, but whose souls, I hope, trust, and 
believe, are praising the blessed Redeemer around the eternal 
throne. God have mercy on me, and enable me to bear my 
burden with Christian resignation.” 

The two men, who were sitting with their backs to the door, 
were so entirely absorbed in their own thoughts and afflictions 
that neither noticed the entrance of Emily into the room. 
She was preparing to seat herself when she observed that the 


62 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


face of the body was uncovered, and she hastened to spread 
the sheet over it. A small table stood at the head of the 
corpse, and on it were placed a candle, and several bottles and 
vials containing medicines which had been used for the resto- 
ration of the dead youth. In her haste she overturned one 
of the vials, and the contents spilled directly in the face of 
the corpse. She was terror-stricken at the accident, and was 
attempting to repair the damage she had done, when, to her 
utter amazement, the eyes of the dead man flew wide open, 
and an audible groan escaped. Emily shrieked and fell to 
the floor. The two old men started up in amazement. 

Is it not strange, reader, this fear of a corpse? Why do 
we dread to be left alone with a senseless mass of clay? We 
stand around the death -bed of our departing friends; we watch 
with extreme grief their dying struggles; and when the last 
faint gasp is over, then we instantly feel that their spirits are 
freed from the tenement of earth and are hovering in the room 
as spectators of our sorrow. When all becomes still, and the 
pale man is “laid out,” then, if the slightest movement is 
made in the vicinity of the corpse, how we start as if we ex- 
pected the dead one to pounce upon us and drag us down to 
the tomb! Even the gentle breeze that steals through the 
apartment, and rustles the snow-white covering that conceals 
the lost one from view, will make us look around with 
trembling fear, and prepare to fly for life. And should our 
acquaintances or friends, who had been prepared for burial 
happen to disappoint us, and conclude to cheat the grave of 
its due, and then suddenly pop up into a sitting posture, w( 
would doubtless fly with indescribable apprehension from then 
presence, and leave them, until reason should remount th 
throne, to recover in the way they thought proper from parti? i 
death. It is not surprising, therefore, that Emily should have 
acted as she did, nor is it a matter of very great astonishment 
that the nasal organs of the corpse could not endure without 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


53 


flinching the knock-down propensities of ammonia. At least 
it was more than Henry Winston could tolerate without mani- 
festing some sign of disapproval. 

The two old men were extremely surprised at this sudden 
turn of affairs, but Major Burrell comprehended it all at one 
glance. The eyes of the corpse remained open for nearly a 
quarter of a minute, then closed with a frown, and another 
groan was distinctly heard. 

“Great God! he lives. General, he lives!” exclaimed Major 
Burrell. “Lord God! what shall we do?” and he ran from 
the room in a fit of terrible excitement, like a distracted 
maniac, scarcely conscious of what he was doing. 

General Winston stood for a moment almost stupefied 
There is no knowing how matters would have terminated had 
not a third party appeared upon the stage. Just as Major 
Burrell reached the front door his ear caught the sound of the 
hoofs of a couple of flying steeds clattering up the avenue. 
The horsemen were at the door. 

“Dr. Johnson, as I live! For God’s sake. Doctor, quick! 
lose not a moment! The man lives — just come to himself 
For God Almighty's sake, hurry, Doctor, hurry!” and the 
physician was absolutely -dragged from his horse and pushed 
into the apartment. 

“Save him. Doctor, save him, and you shall be trebly 
repaid!” exclaimed General Winston, as soon as he saw the 
physician enter. 

Dr. Johnson seemed surprised at the looks of terror and 
dismay depicted on the countenances of the two men, and at 
Emily, still sitting on the floor, recovering from her swoon. 
He, however, spoke not, but went to work like an expe- 
rienced disciple of Esculapius. It is impossible to describe 
the breathless anxiety with which General Winston and Major 
Burrell looked on. They watched narrowly every movement 
of the Doctor, and then looked at the face of the corpse, to 


54 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


discover any signs of returning life. Dr. Johnson examined 
the body very carefully a moment. 

“The young man has been terribly stunned,” said he. 

He seized his saddle-bags and was soon applying proper 
remedies. 

“Is there any hope, Doctor?” said General Winston, after 
the lapse of a few moments. 

“ I can not say yet. General. I will tell you in a quarter 
of an hour.” 

The Doctor worked faithfully with his patient for another 
five minutes; then the eyes were again opened and closed, and 
a breath drawn with great pain and difliiculty. 

“Thank God! thank God!” cried the General. 

“ Hurry, Doctor, hurry, for God’s sake !” exclaimed Major 
Burrell. 

The doctor could not repress a smile at the old man’s im- 
petuosity, but he continued to work rapidly. Ten minutes sped 
away; then respiration commenced heavily and irregularly. 
Five minutes more and the young man was breathing more 
freely. Dr. Johnson paused for a moment, then spoke: 

“General,” said he, “the young man will live.” 

“Thanks be to God!” exclaimed General Winston, grasping 
* him warmly by the hand. 

“Three hours since,” continued the Doctor, “I could have 
saved him without any difficulty. I was some distance off 
when I received the summons, and have had a long, hard ride. 
But tell me why you have laid the young man out as if for 
burial?” 

“We found him about three o’clock,” replied Major Burrell, 
“and labored for nearly two hours to bring him to life; at the 
expiration of that length of time every spark of life seemed to 
be extinct. We had not the most remote idea that he lived 
till just a moment before you came, when Emily entered the 
room, shrieked, and fell fainting to the floor. We then looked 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


55 


up, and discovered the General’s nephew with his eyes wide 
open, and heard him groan. In a moment afterward you very 
fortunately arrived.” 

The physician cast a look at Emily, which she interpreted 
as one of inquiry in regard to the part she had played in this 
semi-tragical drama, and she answered: 

“0, Doctor, I very awkwardly upset a vial of medicine in 
his face.” 

“The young man, then, is doubtless indebted to your awk- 
wardness for his life. Miss Emily. I see it was ammonia. A 
few minutes longer and I doubt not he would have been beyond 
my skill. But the patient must be removed from this plank.” 

Young Winston was placed again on the bed. Another 
hour soon passed, and then Dr. Johnson pronounced the 
patient out of danger. 

“Now,” said he, “I must be gone; I have other patients 
that require my attention. The young man will probably not 
be conscious till some time to-morrow. As soon as he speaks 
give him this,” holding a vial of medicine in his hand, “but 
do not by any means suffer him to talk. He will doubtless, 
before this time to-morrow evening, be able to relate his own 
story in regard to the accident.” 

“I am under lasting obligations to you. Dr. Johnson,” said 
General Winston. “You can not imagine how sincerely I 
thank you.” 

“You are under no obligations to me. General; and it affords 
me ineffable pleasure to see you relieved from what I know 
must have been your distress. You are as much indebted to 
Miss Emily as to my humble self But 1 have no time to 
talk. Good night.” So saying the worthy doctor gathered 
his hat and saddle-bags, and was soon gone to the relief of 
other sufferers. 

We will leave the reader to imagine the joy of General 
Winston, in which Major Burrell and his lovely daughter 


56 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


sincerely and heartily participated. The old General must 
needs kiss Emily for her “timely awkwardness,” he said, and 
she submitted with a very good grace. 

That livelong night the two old men sat in the room 
of the General’s nephew. They talked merrily for awhile 
of the good old times of the past, and then sadly of their 
early friends and acquaintances who had long since departed 
from the stage of human action. Then they would pause for 
a long time, as if by mutual consent, each recalling scenes and 
incidents of youthful days that now lay. buried amid the 
decaying waste of memory. The night crept slowly on, and 
the soft zephyr, laden with the perfume of the fast-fading 
beauties of summer, sighed amid the branches of the tall, 
stately oaks; then died away almost as slowly as the last rays 
of the sinking sun. But still the sufferer reposed in apparent 
unconsciousness. No perceptible change was discovered in 
his condition till toward the dawn of the morning, when his 
respiration was evidently performed with much less difficulty. 
The patient was safe. 

After breakfast, Emily persuaded her father and General 
Winston to take some rest, promising that she would watch 
by the bedside, and if any change for the worse should take 
place she would inform them at once. Accordingly they 
retired and left her alone, the Major saying he would send 
Walter to assist her. 

Emily took her position at the bedside. She had not sat 
more than fifteen or twenty minutes, listening to the heavy 
breathing of the patient, before he suddenly opened his eyes, 
and stared wildly around the apartment and at her. 

“I see how it is,” he at length said, in a feeble voice: “I 
have died, and thou, beautiful creature, art an angel, come to 
conduct me to the spirit-land. Is it not so?” 

“You are not dead, sir,” said Emily, quickly interrupting 
him; “neither am I an angel, but a poor mortal like yourself. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


57 


JBut the doctor said you must not talk, sir, and that you must 
take this medicine.” 

He rubbed his bewildered head, then swallowed the dose 
without another word, and very soon afterward fell into a deep 
and refreshing slumber. 

Emily now examined more closely the features of the 
sleeper. She viewed before her a young man, apparently, 
twenty-five years of age. She saw his raven black hair, his 
bold, high forehead, his Grecian nose, and his firmly-set 
mouth. His eyes, she had seen, were of a dark blue. Emily 
thought it was altogether the most beautiful and handsome 
countenance she had ever beheld, and was gazing into the 
young man’s face with an eagerness which we will justify by 
calling it the natural curiosity of woman. She was merely 
looking at the face like a lover of art would examine a fine 
picture or piece of sculpture. She did not all this time 
observe her cousin Walter, who was standing in the door, 
looking at this spectacle with no feeling of pleasure. At last 
he spoke; 

“ It seems to me, Emily, if the young man were conscious, 
he would feel highly flattered with the earnestness of your 
inspection, which is certainly closer than he could reasonably 
expect upon so short an acquaintance.” 

Emily started, and she appeared all at once to compre-* 
hend the impropriety of her action; then she colored at being 
detected ; then her eyes flashed with anger at being reproved. 
Walter knew it not, but he had planted in Emily’s breast 
the seed of sudden but deep detestation of himself. Women 
sometimes hate for very slight causes. But Emily checked 
her rising indignation. 

“You are unjust, cousin Walter — very unjust and suspicious. 
But I will make no apology for my actions; and as there is no 
particular necessity for my presence here, if you will remain 
I will retire.” So saying, she left the apartment. 


58 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER V. 


“He says he loves my daughter; 

I think so too; for never gazed the moon 
Upon the water, as he’ll stand, and read 
As ’twere, my daughter’s eyes: and, to be plain, 

I think there is not half a kiss to choose 
Who loves another best.” 

It will be best not to fatigue the reader’s patience by enter 
ing into minute details in regard to Henry Winston’s recovery. 
It is sufficient to say that he did recover, and that without 
any accident, incident, difficulty, or event, more than might be 
supposed to attach naturally to a condition of short sickness. 
We will further say that the tedium of the sick-room was 
considerably relieved by Emily, who frequently read to young 
Winston, at his request, from his favorite authors. Two per- 
sons of such similar tastes soon formed a warm friendship — 
a friendship founded on mutual respect and esteem. As to 
any other sentiment beyond friendship, “deponent saith not.” 
Byron, I believe, says “friendship is a dangerous word for 
a young lady.” Be this as it may, in six days the young man 
changed his quarters to his uncle’s — General Winston — but 
not without a warm invitation from Major Burrell to visit at 
his house whenever it should be agreeable. 

Three weeks had passed away. The reader will, of course, 
like to know what our hero was doing all this time. It would 
be useless to state how frequently Henry and Emily met; 
how often they sat in Emily’s bower, situated on one side of 
the avenue, and sang with the guitar, or conversed on the 
great works of great minds ; or how often they rode out and 
enjoyed the pleasures of natural scenery. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


59 


The redder, we are aware, has already imagined the denoue- 
ment; and we will not deny that the effect of this continued 
association with a man of Winstop’s personal appearance, and 
intellectual and moral qualifications, can not be easily imagined 
upon a young girl of pure heart and refined sensibility. S,ome- 
times she would detect herself looking down the avenue long 
and anxiously when she was alone; then a deep blush would 
play over her beautiful features. What caused it she hardly 
knew; but she knew from some strange cause that she felt 
extremely miserable in Winston’s absence; and she knew, 
furthermore, that in his company she felt very happy. The 
poor girl, ignorant of some of the passions of the human 
heart, persuaded herself that her curious feeling originated 
from a cause connected with the intellect. Sometimes, how- 
ever, a feeble inkling of the truth would rush to her mind, 
especially after looking down the avenue for a long time (and 
somehow it seemed a very Jong time to her) she would see 
Winston coming; then she would suddenly close the window 
curtain, and seat herself in a dark corner of the room; then 
she would suddenly steal to the window, to see if she were 
mistaken, and if Henry were really in view. Had any one 
told Emily in plain terms that she was most desperately in 
love with young Winston, she would have denied it emphatic- 
ally. She did not acknowledge it to herself. She supposed 
and persuaded herself that she loved Winston’s company for 
the sake of the intellectual pleasure it afforded. They gener- 
ally conversed upon subjects connected with science and art. 
Winston had never, by the most distant hint, intimated that 
he was inspired with any other feeling in regard to Emily 
than pure respect and esteem. Her modesty and natural 
purity of character would, therefore, have prevented her from 
bestowing her love where it would not be appreciated. But 
day by day she become more entangled, more infatuated, and 
more miserable. Like a defenseless ship in the maelstrom. 


60 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


she was moving slowly but surely, and perceived not clearly 
the point to which she was drifting. Old Major Burrell 
watched both the young people with a father's anxiety. From 
all the indications, which are well known to those who have 
passed through the fiery ordeal of love, he believed all would 
be right in the end. So he looked on and smiled. 

Emily knew not the depth of her affection, till one day 
Winston, after a long conversation, said: 

“It is frequently a sad thing to part. Miss Emily; and it 
will be trying to me to leave the kind friends whose acquaint- 
ance I have formed during my visit to this country; but, as 
much as I regret it, the trial must soon be undergone.” 

It had never occurred to Emily that they must part; and 
now the sudden thought that she must give up Winston sent 
the crimson tide almost curdling to her heart. She knew then 
that the intellect was not so much concerned with her feelings 
as she had supposed. She felt vexed and perplexed, but she 
attempted to choke down her emotions and reply in a tone as 
cold and indifferent as she could assume. 

“I was not aware you were going to leave so soon.” 

“Yes, Miss Emily; I can not prolong my stay much longer. 
But before I go I must express my obligations to you for the 
many happy hours which you have been so kind as to devote 
to my entertainment. I have, indeed, derived much pleasure 
from your society. I do not say it to flatter you. Miss Emily, 
but I have never met with a lady in my life whose young 
mind is so well stored with all that can dignify woman’s 
nature, or one who worships with so true devotion at the 
shrine of nature.” 

“ Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Winston. I appre- 
ciate it very highly, coming from the source it does.” 

They talked on for awhile; then Winston was heard repeat- 
ing the following lines from Campbell, in reply to something 
Emily had said ; what it was we know not. The lines appear 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 61 

to have been misapplied, judging from what Emily remarked 
when Winston concluded the quotation: 

*' Till Hymen brought his love-delighted hour, 

There dwelt no joy in Eden’s rosy bower! 

In vain the viewless seraph, lingering there 
At starry midnight, charmed the silent airj 
In vain the wild bird carol’d on the steep, 

To hail the sun, slow-wheeling from the deep; 

In vain, to soothe the solitary shade, 

Aerial notes in mingling measure 'played; 

The summer wind that shook the spangled tree. 

The whispering wave, the murmur of the bee, — 

Still slowly passed the melancholy day, ' 

And still the stranger wist not where to stray; 

The world was sad, the garden was a wild; 

And man, the hermit, sighed till woman smiled!’” 


“That is a digression from the subject, Mr. Winston. T 
had no reference to such a topic.” 

“I know it, Miss Emily; and I would not do you the in- 
justice to construe your language otherwise than you intended, 
But the lines will serve as an introduction to something I 
must say before I leave you.” 

Emily hung her head in spite of all her efforts to look 
dignified and indifferent. She felt that the “something” to 
which Winston alluded would not be unpleasant; but she 
said not a word. 

“I can not. Miss Emily, allow this opportunity to pass, 
whatever may be the result, without telling you what a lasting 
impression you have made on my heart. If I am speaking to 
one whose afiections are pre-engaged, she, I hope, will have 
the kindness to spare me the mortification of feeling which 
must always accompany an avowal to a preoccupied heart.” 

She replied in a low tone, and her low words could be 
heard only by Winston. They could not have been unfavor- 
able, for the young man immediately said: 

“Then I must now know my doom.” 


62 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


After a short pause, he moved nearer to where Emily sat, 
and, seizing her trembling hand, he continued: 

“My dearest one, I love thee. Language has no power to 
express the unutterable emotions of my heart. I would you 
could read at this instant the workings of my soul. When I 
first saw you standing by my bedside, I recollect I took you 
for an angel; but I was afterward glad to find you were 
mortal. I felt that very moment that my fate was sealed. I 
loved you then better than life. You have been ever since in 
my thoughts by day, and in my dreams by night. Whether 
sleeping or waking, you have been absent from my mind 
scarcely a single moment. My dearest Emily (suffer me to 
call you such), I love you madly! I adore you! Only the 
God of heaven can know the wild emotion that now thrills 
through every fiber of my being. 0, I can not find words 
sufficient to express myself! It is useless to try it. But, 
now I have told you all, can I, dare I hope for any return 
of my warm, ardent affection?” 

“This declaration, Mr. Winston,” said the blushing Emily, 
“has taken me by surprise, and was entirely unexpected to 
me; but I do assure you I feel highly flattered by it.” 

“ And is that all?” 

“Why, what more could you expect me to say? But, if 
you desire it, I will say you have my esteem and respect, and 
may always claim my warmest friendship.” 

“Friendship is but a poor return for the inexpressible love 
I feel for you. I would far prefer never to have seen you 
than to possess nothing but your friendship after forming 
your acquaintance. You ask what I want you to say. Now, 
Miss Emily, I understand you saved my life, for which I 
thank you; but I would to heaven I had perished in the storm 
rather than now leave this spot without an assurance of your 
love ! Will you not, then, be the light of that life God made 
you the instrument of preserving ?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


63 


Women are strange beings. In matters of love it may be 
safely asserted they are more deceitful than the “lords of 
creation;” but, be it said to their credit, modesty makes them 
so. As Shakespeare says: 

“Maids in modesty say No to that 
Which they would have the profferer construe — Aye." 

Emily loved Winston with her whole soul, and listened to 
his burning words w'ith the delight which women only can 
feel, but she had too much modesty to surrender her heart 
without some show of resistance; so she replied: 

“I have not thought on the subject, Mr. Winston; and I 
think our acquaintance is rather limited. But, if it were 
otherwise, you could not wish me to say I loved you, unless 
I did?” 

What she meant by making such a reply, and adopting such 
a modus operand^ we will leave to the “fair sex” to say. 
Winston, however, answered : 

“No, Miss Emily, I could not require you to make such a 
sacrifice. As much as I love you, I would scorn an alliance 
in which all the love would be on one side, and in which I 
would claim a heart that could beat no response to miue. It 
could furnish me little pleasure to see the tender vine wither- 
ing on the oak. And were you the queen of the world — 
could you command the wealth of land and sea — I would de- 
spise myself, I would lose my own self-respect, could I desire 
for one instant to share a prosperity which would bring but 
misery without the smile of love. Rather than be one of the 
parties to such an unholy contract, I would prefer to drag 
through a wretched existence, solitary and alone, the only 
comforter of my own sorrow and misery. If you love me 
not, say so; I shall take it as an act of kindness. I shall not 
attempt even to persuade you to bestow your affection upon 
me. I would throw from me in contempt love that should be 
brought about only’ by persuasion. I want only that warm. 


64 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


wild emotion that bursts forth spontaneously from the heart, 
and makes an idol of its object. I want that love which 
clings with an undying tenacity to its idol, and bids defiance 
to time and death. With such a being, O, I could live happy 
anywhere — in the deep, dark dungeon dank, where the light 
of the sun never comes — in the wild wilderness — on the burn- 
ing desert — in the palace of the nabob or the hut of the 
poorest beggar. If you love me not, say so, and let me pre- 
pare to meet my fate. I can not forbear saying, though, that 
if your answer is unfavorable to my wishes, I would to God I 
had died under the boughs o.f yonder oak, where you found 
me at death’s door. Miss Emily,” continued the young man 
more vehemently, “I am the best friend you have on earth; 
I would lay down my life for thee — I would cheerfully die for 
thee, my dearest girl. You are the only one on the earth to 
whom I could confide the secret thoughts of my heart. My 
relatives — father, mother, brothers, sisters — have all gone to 
the spirit-land. They have left me alone to guide my frail 
bark through the tempestuous sea of time. With the excep- 
tion of my good, kind old uncle, there breathes not a being 
in the wide world connected to me by the bonds of blood- 
relationship. But the love I had for them all is not the one 
thousandth part of that I feel for thee. Speak, then ; let me 
know my doom.” 

Emily did want to speak, and intended to. She was pleased 
with Winston’s vehemence and the thrilling language of his 
love. But she knew not in what manner she ought to make 
known the true state of her own heart. 

“I have had no time for reflection, Mr. Winston; and I do 
not know that I am fully prepared to answer.” 

“The human heart,” replied Winston, slowly, “is not such 
a cold, dull thing that it knows not at once its own emotions. 
I. must say I do heartily despise the custom of society which 
requires the fair sex to demand time to reflect whether they 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


65 


love or not — just like there could be any mistake about it. 
True, generous love, warm from the heart, makes no cold cal- 
culation, but overleaps the bounds of reason, and fastens upon 
its object, utterly regardless of consequences and of the opinion 
of the world. It gushes forth like the mad torrent down the 
steep mountain side. It never mistakes its object; and you 
know now, Miss Emily, whether you are willing to become 
mine, as well as you would by reflecting upon it a month. 
Will you, then, be mine?” 

Winston paused, and Emily remained silent. She no longer 
had an excuse for not giving a candid reply, but still she hesi- 
tated. It would be difficult to tell what varied thoughts were 
working in her mind. But she seemed all at once to recollect 
herself, and suddenly withdrew her hand, which Winston had 
been holding. The young man changed his tactics. 

“Miss Emily, I must take that, then, as my answer. Fare 
well, and may God bless you!” 

As he rose to leave, Emily’s countenance turned deathly 
pale, and Winston knew he could not be mistaken. He 
moved back to her side. 

“Emily, my dearest, I am not mistaken; you do love me. 
Say so, and consent to be mine.” 

Henry ^ I wilir 

Winston heard the whisper, and the next thing the blushing 
girl was clasped in her lover’s arms. Header, the curtain 
falls. 


6 


66 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER VI. 

“ Farewell, thou hast trampled love’s faith in the dust; 

Thou hast torn from my bosom its hope and its trust.” 

Walter Hallam, notwithstanding the length to which 
he had already prolonged his visit, still lingered, reluctant to 
part with Emily and her fortune. We will, however, do him 
the justice to say that he loved his cousin with as much ardor 
as it was possible for one of his stoical turn of mind to feel. 
He had not again mentioned to her his proposal since the 
day before the storm, but had watched with a jealous eye the 
growing intimacy between Emily and Henry Winston. The 
latter, he had concluded, since his recovery, was an unmiti- 
gated scoundrel — had jilted and trifled with his sister, and 
was now attempting to deceive his cousin in the same way. 
Even if this were not the case, it was not his intention that 
Winston should step between his cousin and himself, and bear 
off in triumph her vast fortune. He had no idea of such a 
thing; yet he felt somewhat apprehensive when he saw the 
evident partiality which Emily manifested for Winston’s com- 
pany. It would be an act of kindness, an act of justice to 
his cousin to inform her with what kind of a character she 
was dealing. It would be an easy matter, he thought, to put 
an end to proceedings in this quarter by merely showing to 
Emily the letter his sister had written to one who must have 
been her lover. The time had now come when this duty 
ought to be performed; because, for the last two or three days 
(that is, after the event narrated in the last chapter), he by no 
means relished the familiarity with which Emily treated his 
rival. He must now discharge his duty. So the third day 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY 


67 


after Emily had listened to the impassioned words of Henry 
Winston, which had made the world wear a different and more 
pleasing aspect — (what young maid does not feel this same 
buoyancy and elasticity of spirit when the idol of her heart 
can be unreservedly worshiped?) — she found herself alone 
with Walter Hallam. Emily was silent; and she was think- 
ing of her lover, who was this very evening to consult with 
her father; and, all parties consenting, the twain were to be 
made one the first day of the next year. She was so busy 
with her own reflections that she was scarcely aware of 
Walter’s presence. He was the first to break the silence. 

“Will you listen to me a few moments, cousin Emily?” 

“Why, certainly, Walter; but from your tone of voice I 
presume I am to hear a lecture. Is it not so?” 

“No, Emily, no. Lecture the devil! I want to talk to 
you plainly for your own good; I want to advise you.” 

“I can not conceive of any emergency or contingency in 
which I would need your advice, cousin Walter. It is true 
I am young and inexperienced, but when I am in such a 
condition as to need instruction or advice, I can apply to my 
father.” 

“Then, Emily, I want to warn you.” 

“0, well, go on, cousin Walter,” said Emily, in a tone of 
indifierence; “I will listen.” 

“ I will come to the point at once then ; this young Win- 
ston ” Emily colored. 

“Well, what of him?” 

“There may be no necessity for my warning, Emily, unless 
certain events have transpired, which I think not improbable.” 

“Don’t speak in riddles, cousin Walter; I am no hand at 
unraveling enigmas. A thousand circumstances may or may 
not have occurred, whether you think them probable or not. 
I do not understand your meaning.” 

“You afiect not to understand me. Very well; I will put 


68 


THE CONFEDEKATE SPY. 


this plain question, which you can not misapprehend : Which 
do you prefer — myself or Winston?” 

“Prefer— yourself or Winston? What do you mean?” 

Walter felt a little nettled at Emily’s apparent ignorance of 
a simple interrogation. 

“You seem to be quite dull of comprehension to-day, 
Emily. But I have the vanity to believe I can make myself 
understood. Which, then, do you prefer as a lover — myself 
or this devil Winston?” 

The black eye flashed fire, and the red lip trembled with 
indignation. 

“Walter Hallam, if you can not use more respectful lan- 
guage, t shall be under the necessity of avoiding your com- 
pany. This is the third or fourth time you have thrown out 
expressions which would not be tolerated in respectable 
society.” 

“ You are becoming very particular, all at once. I am not 
aware of having violated the rules of etiquette.” 

“If you are not, so much the worse for you then.” 

“But that is no answer to my question, Emily.” 

“I do not recognize your right, sir, to question me as to 
my likes or dislikes or preferences.” 

“I suppose, though, you can answer the portion of the 
question which relates to myself? You have not forgotten 
that you have kept me in suspense for several weeks?” 

“ It was not my fault. But, if that is all you want, I can 
answer you at once.” 

“Well, then, when shall our marriage take place?” 

“I can answer that in one word, Walter — never T 

“And that is your positive and irrevocable answer?” 

“It is useless to multiply words on the subject. I have 
answered your question plainly, and I meant what I said; but, 
if you desire it, I can repeat; and I say — never ^ never T 

“And you prefer Winston to me?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 69 

“I said no such thing, and had I never seen Hen — Mr. 
Winston — my reply would have been the same.” 

“Emily, its no use trying to deceive me that way.” 

“I am not trying to deceive you, sir; I have spoken noth- 
ing but truth.” 

“ I am fully persuaded, Emily, you would have married me 
if this finical upstart had not interfered.” 

“Then I can inform you that you are flattering yourself 
with a delusion. I never would have married you.” 

“ Can you deny that you are carrying on a puppyimi with 
this man Winston?” 

“Mr. Hallam, I shall not answer your unbecoming ques- 
tions.” 

“You are so very fastidious to-day, I will put the question 
in another form. I will ask you, then, if you are not in love, 
as you may call it, with Winston ?” 

“And if I should be, what have you to do with it?” 

“I almost knew it, Emily; and I see it will be of no use 
advising you; but I will show you what I have to do with it. 
I shall not suffer you to be deceived any longer by such a 
d — d scoundrel as he is.” 

“Walter Hallam,” said Emily, rising, “I will not stay to 
hear such indecent language.” 

“0, well; go on, Emily, if you can not listen to reason and 
common sense. I was going to make an explanation; but go 
on, if you want to. I will do you the kindness, though, to 
break off your unbecoming intimacy with this consummate 
villain, even against your consent; no doubt you will thank 
me for it at some future day.” 

Emily was so enraged that she stayed not to hear another 
word. 

“The girl,” said Hallam to himself after she was gone, “is 
peifectly infatuated. But I will not suffer her to be imposed 
on by this d — d poetical hypocrite. I shall see him this very 


70 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


evening, if he comes here, and let him know that some of his 
past villainies have come to light. It is strange to me, and 
always has been, how women can prefer the canting gibberish 
of popinjays to the talk of sensible men. They would at any 
time rather listen to a pitiable piece of ‘ Pop-goes-the-weasel- 
ings’ than the best chapter from Adam Smith. Let any 
darned fool, with barely sufficient brains to recognize his own 
mother’s son in a crowd, only black his mustachios, twirl a 
walking-cane with a hand covered with brass rings, and spout 
his d — d nonsense about moonshine, and the silly things 
gather around him like a set of chattering monkeys. Let a 
man enter company with the assurance of an emperor, bow 
and scrape like a bobbing duck, rear back in his chair, and 
roll out his bird-and-flower phrases, and the more silly he 
talks the more will the giggling girls ‘fall in love,’ as they 
call it, with the ‘dear angel!’ Love! the devil! A more con- 
temptible piece of folly was never invented by the brain of 
man. But my cousin Emily is a good girl, and shall be saved 
from this match. When he is gone, she will be disposed to 
reconsider the matter, and take me for a husband. Women 
often say no when they mean yes. They are as changeable 
and fickle as the winds anyhow. But may be all will yet be 
right.” 

That very evening Henry Winston, according to promise, 
was walking leisurely in the direction of Major Burrell’s. His 
thoughts may be better imagined than described. Nothing is 
more embarrassing to a well-bred young man than the neces- 
sity of asking the consent of the “old folks” to his contract 
of partnership, in all things temporal and spiritual, with their 
lovely daughter. Winston was thinking in what manner he 
should broach the subject to Major Burrell. He had studied 
up twenty different ways and twenty different forms, but they 
had all been rejected, one after the other. At last he con- 
cluded to wait, and speak on the spur of the moment, accord- 


THE CONEEDERATE SPY. 


71 


ing to the humor he should find the Major in. He had now 
nearly reached Emily’s bower, when he thought he distin- 
guished voices. Drawing nearer, he paused and listened. 
Emily was singing that simple little air: 

**‘When other friends are round thee, 

And other hearts are thine j 
When other bays have crowned thee, 

More fresh and green than mine — 

Then think how sad and lonely 
This wretched heart will be. 

Which, while it beats, beats only. 

Beloved one, for thee I 

Yet do not think I doubt thee, 

I know thy truth remains j 
I would not live without thee 
For all the world contains. 

Thou art the star that guides me 
Along life’s troubled sea; 

Whatever fate betides me. 

This heart still turns to thee.”' 

Winston felt a thrill of pleasure stealing through his 
frame as he thought these beautiful words were all intended 
for himself; but the next moment his joy was changed to 
anguish. 

“I think you have improved very much in singing, my 
dear Emily, since I left,” said a deep voice, which made 
Henry start like a cannon had exploded at his feet. “But, 
Emily, what about this young man Winston? I understand 
that you are very dreadfully in love.” 

Emily reddened, but with sparkling eyes she replied: 

“/ do not love Henry Winston. I ” Then, as if ashamed 

of the intensity of her feelings, she suddenly paused. 

“You what, my dear?” 

“Well, never mind,” she cried, “/ love you, and have always 
loved you;'^ and she threw her arms around the gentleman’s 
neck, and imprinted a kiss upon his cheek. 


72 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Henry Winston was thunderstruck. He stood for a mo- 
ment stone-still, then he sudden^y decided his course of action. 
He stayed to hear no more; the demon of jealousy had en- 
tered his heart, and’ the proud man was stung to the quick 
with the thought that he had been duped by a curly-haired 
girl, who would now make sport with her true lover over the 
secret sentiments of his heart which he had uttered to Emily. 
It maddened him, and he rushed from the spot. The \vorld 
appeared dark and gloomy, and he was walking as if he w(Te 
attempting to leave it forever. The reader will think this was 
a strange course for an impetuous lover to pursue; but he is 
not sufficiently acquainted with the character of our hero to 
understand his motives. There are few men in the world 
who would have acted exactly as he did. It would have 
been better for his peace of mind, and Emily’s too, if his 
propensity to eavesdrop had been more strongly and fully 
developed; for, after a momentary pause, the conversation was 
continued : 

“ But, -Emily, what do you mean by saying you do not love 
Henry Winston? I know you do.” 

“Brother James, 1 will hide nothing from you. I do not 
love him; it is more than that — I worship and adore him.” 
And she hid her face in blushing confusion. 

“0, that’s it, is it? Well, come, sister, don’t be ashamed. 
But when can I see your divinity?” 

“Now, directly; I am looking for him every moment.” 

“And that is why you have brought your guitar here.” 

“Yes; Mr. Winston is very fond of music, and we sing 
together very frequently. 0, I know you will like him so 
much when you see him.” 

“I hope so, Emily, since you desire it. But, cjianging 
the subject a little, what do you think of our cousin, Walter 
Hallam? You say very little about him in your letters.” 

“There is little to say about him ” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 73 

“ I infer, then, you do not like our kinsman as well as you 
do your new household god?” 

“I will express no opinion concerning him; you can see 
him, and form your own opinion.” 

“Well, let us go to the house then; I wish to see our 
father and become acquainted with Walter Hallam.” 

The reader will readily understand that the person with 
whom Emily was so familiarly conversing was her brother, 
James Burrell. He had come home upon a short leave of 
absence, and was to return to West Point in a day or two. It 
will not he necessary to honor him with a longer description. 
We will notice Hallam. 

Walter was standing in the doorway when Winston turned 
into the avenue. As soon as he saw this, he abruptly left the 
house at right angles to the direction in which his hated rival 
was walking, and proceeded to the road which he knew Henry 
must travel, with the intention of meeting him, on his return, 
as if by accident. He sat down close to the road-side with 
the patience of a beast of prey watching for its unsuspecting 
victim. He had sat thus but a few moments on the wayside, 
when, to his great surprise, he saw Winston approaching, with 
a speed which was truly astonishing and unnatural to a man 
who had just left a lovely intended la fiancee. 

“The devil must be to pay now,” thought Walter. “I 
wonder what can have happened.” 

But he had little time for reflection, for Winston’s rapid 
gait soon brought them together. 

“ Whither so fast, Mr. Winston ? I do not think you 
usually travel so rapidly. Are you ill, sir? You look rathev 
pale.” 

In Winston’s state of mind the voice seemed to come from 
the throat of a demon. He halted abruptly, and stared at 
Hallam vacantly, as if he did not understand clearly what 
was spoken. He knew the words, whatever they were, were 


74 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


uttered in rather a tone of sarcastic insolence, which had a 
tendency to arouse his anger. Upon second thought he con- 
cluded not to notice Hallam’s impudence, and was preparing 
to pass on, without deigning to reply, when Walter again 
addressed him: 

“If you are not too much pressed for time, Mr. Winston, 
I would be glad you would make an explanation I have to 
demand.” 

“Well, speak fast then, Mr. Hallam.” 

“ I am usually in the habit of coming to the point at once, 
and” 

“Well, say on, man. No a/icfs and ifs^ nor prefaces; if 
you have any thing to say, speak out quickly, and let me he 
gone.” 

“Well, then, sir, you recollect a letter addressed to you by 
one who now sleeps in the grave, and a small miniature ” 

“Letter? Miniature? Whose?” 

“You seem to be in a devil of a hurry, sir; but the letter 
was from my sister, who died shortly after it was written.” 

“And I would to God,” exclaimed Winston, in a wild, sad 
voice, “I, too, slept in the grave!” 

“Mr. Winston,” said Hallam, in astonishment, “your con- 
duct appears to me inexplicable. First, you deceived my 
sister ; then you may be playing the same part a second time ; 
and now, when asked for an explanation of your strange and 
unaccountable conduct, you wish that you were dead. How 
is that, sir?” 

“ When I learn that I am responsible to you for my actions, 
I will make any explanation that may be deemed necessary; 
but, until then, all I have to say is, I never spoke two dozen 
words to your sister in my life. I have no time to explain 
further; I am in no humor for explanations.” 

“ I must say your mind does appear to be wandering, Mr. 
Winston.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


75 


“ I have no time to tarry. So good evening.” 

“Mr. Winston,” said Hallam, placing himself directly in front 
of the former, “ your statement is not at all satisfactory. I must 
have an explanation, sir. My cousin. Miss Burrell” 

Winston’s eyes flashed fire. 

“ You attempt to detain me by force, eh? Well, we will 
see.” 

Almost before the words were out, and before Walter could 
divine the intention of his enraged rival, he received a blow 
upon his forehead which felled him to the ground. Henry 
scarcely turned his head, but walked on like a madman. He 
had made but a few strides, however, before he heard Hallam 
exclaiming, in an angry voice: 

“You shall repent this, sir; and, unless you are a coward, 
we will meet again soon.” 

But the object of this threat seemed not to hear him, or at 
least seemed to think his prostrated enemy unworthy of fur- 
ther notice. He moved on like a maniac, and at a rate which 
soon brought him to his uncle’s residence. The General was 
not at home, and did not arrive till late at night. Going up 
to his room, Henry threw himself on the bed and lay still for 
a few moments, with his face hid in his hands; then rising, 
he rapidly paced up and down the room. 

“Who would have thought,” said he to himself, “it was 
possible for so much deceit to be connected with one of het 
apparent gentleness and candor. No, I can not be mistaken ; 
I heard it distinctly . — do not love Henry Winston;^ and then 
she said to her lover, ‘ J love you^ afnd have always hved^ou ' 
I wonder who the fellow is. What an arrant fool I have 
been ! How easily duped ! But if she did not love me, she 
acted the coquette and the hypocrite to perfection. One thing 
I can not be mistaken about — I loved her. I would rather die 
than lose her. I will make one more effort to secure her. I 
will demand an explanation. What! an explanation - after 


76 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


hearing her say with her own lips that she did not. love me! 
No, T will not be such a fool. I will have more manliness 
and independence. She might laugh in my face. 0 Grod I 
what a blow hereT placing his hand over his heart. “But I 
will suffer in silence. 0, how I love her still, though I have 
been so terribly deceived! When her head lay upon my 
shoulder, and I felt her heart beat against mine, and she eveq 
sealed her vows with her tears, how could I doubt? I had 
not the slightest suspicion of her infamous and unjustifiable 
duplicity. I never saw a person seemingly naore truthful, 
artless, and candid in my life. She certainly does love me. 
But how can I be so foolish as to doubt the evidence of my 
own senses? Did I not -hear her with my own ears say she 
did not love me f It was no dream. Would to God it were! 
I heard it without any possibility of mistake. • Probably she 
can explain it. Pshaw! what is the use of asking her to 
explain a thing as plain as one of the axioms of Euclid. No, 
I will leave the country at once. I will fly from her presence 
and endeavor to forget my unhappy passion. I will rise 
superior to this misfortune. I can not deny that the blow has 
shocked and staggered me, but it shall crush me — never ^ never! 
If I mistake not, I see in the political firmament signs of a 
gathering storm, which will soon shake the world to its center. 
The South will never submit to the domination of an abolition 
President; and, as soon as the first alarm is sounded, this arm 
shall be raised in her defense, and shall strike for Mississippi’s 
honor till it be palsied in death. Amid the scenes of carnage 
and bloodshed that shall consecrate every hill-top, I may per- 
haps drown my own deep-rooted sorrow. Then, 

‘Welcome, rough war, with all thy scenes of blood 
Thy roaring thunders, and thy clashing steel 1’” 

All that night a candle burned steadily in the room of Henry 
Winston. He was seated at a table busily writing. General 
Winston returned home about ten o’clock, but immediately 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


77 


retired to his bed. As Henry was a student, it was no unusual 
thing to see a light in his room till midnight. The young 
man’s actions showed, however, that this night at least his 
reflections had little to do with science. Occasionally he 
would cease, lay his head on the table, sit for a few moments as 
if wrapped in thought, then suddenly start from his seat and 
take a turn across the apartment. Again, advancing to the 
table, he would seize the paper upon which he had been 
writing, gaze at it for an instant, and then deliberately hold 
it to the light till it was entirely consumed. Then he would 
walk to the window, thrust himself half-way out, as if he had 
been suffocating. Returning to his writing, he again seized 
his pen, but paused. 

“I must,” thought he, “write something. Yes, she shall 
know that I am not ignorant of the part she has been playing. 
I shall not attempt to deceive her. I will tell her that 1 did 
love her, and that I do even now, though I will endeavor to 
tear her faithless image from my bleeding heart. Yes, she 
shall know it all.” 

And the young man, whose feelings were in a mingled 
tumult, sat for an hour at his desk. At the expiration of that 
length of time he folded a well-filled sheet, inclosed it in an 
envelope, and directed it to Miss Emily Burrell. 

“Now,” thought he, “one to my good uncle, and then I 
leave forever! I can not bear to see the old man, and part 
from him in my present state of feeling. My poor old uncle — 
the only living relative I have on earth — may the great God 
bless him and protect him in his solitary gloom!” 

And the young man’s tears — the first he had shed — flowed 
unrestrainedly down his cheeks. After a few moments, how- 
ever, he was calmer. 

“0, why did I ever meet Emily Burrell? My happiness 
has all vanished like an empty dream. But it is folly to in- 
dulge in useless grief. I will endeavor to be a man. The 


78 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


world shall never know what I am suffering. Even though 
my very heart should burst, I will endure it, like a Spartan, 
without a murmur. And now, my poor old uncle, a line to 
you, and then I go from a spot upon which I would be in- 
tolerably miserable should I stay near it another hour.” 

He wrote rapidly for a short time ; then, his note being 
finished and directed, he lighted a fresh candle, gathered up 
his hat, and walked out of doors, leaving both letters in a 
con.spicuous place on the table. Going hastily to the stable, 
he bridled his faithful steed, that recognized him by a low 
neigh, and led him to the rack in front of the house. He 
then again went into the house. Advancing noiselessly and 
cautiously to his uncle’s door, which was partially open, he 
listened an instant to the deep breathing of the hoary -headed 
man, but he quelled the strong appeals of nature, which at 
first urged him to arouse the old man, and make a candid 
statement of the whole affair. He concluded not to disturb 
the sleeper; so he turned on his heel, left the house with an 
aching heart, mounted his horse, and rode silently away. He 
was compelled to take the road that led by the spot which had 
been the scene of his love and his triumph. O, how his heart 
beat when the tall building which contained one around 
whom his warmest affections and thoughts had clustered 
loomed up in sight! Approaching nearer and nearer, he at 
last saw a light in Emily’s room, and, looking closer, he could 
plainly see her lovely form by the window. He halted ab- 
ruptly ; and here ensued another struggle of the heart. Love 
swelled in his heaving breast, and seemed about to force him 
to that solitary light, which appeared to possess the fabled 
charms of the ignis-fatum. It was a struggle of love against 
jealousy and folly. All the resolutions of our hero were 
about to be scattered by a single breath of the blind god. 
Should he even now, in the stillness of the night, go to Emilv 
and ask her to explain her contradictory words? Might there 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 79 

not, after all, be some mistake? Reason said go, but pride 
revolted at the idea, and folly triumphed. 

“0 God!” he cried, “I can bear this no longer. If 1 
remain here another instant my manhood will desert me!” 

Putting spurs to his horse, he flew clattering down the road, 
and turned his head away from the light, that he might not 
behold the fair siren tempting him to an act of unmanly hu- 
miliation. Emily heard the unusual noise, and listened with 
an unaccountable anxiety till it died away in the distance. 
She knew not why, but the clattering hoofs of that flying 
steed seemed to strike her very heart. But the horseman 
went dashing on and on, till the first faint streaks of light 
were dimly visible in the east. His feelings were in such a 
state of excitement that he was scarcely aware of the rapid 
gait in which he had been traveling. He slackened his speed, 
but still pushed on. That morning, when the brilliant sun 
arose in splendor, and the birds were singing merrily and 
hopping from branch to branch, the poor excited youth was 
many miles away from the light he had seen in the room of 
Emily Burrell ; but still the form in the window was stamped 
in the vivid color of fire on the aching heart of Henry 
Winston. 


80 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER VII. 


vain she seeks to close her weary eyes — 

Those eyes still swim incessantly in tears; 

Hope, in her cheerless bosom, fading, dies, 

Distracted by a thousand cruel fears. 

While banished from his love forever she appears.” 

The morning following the night of the precipitate flight 
of Henry Winston his uncle arose as usual, and his nephew 
not having made his appearance, he inquired of a domestic 
if the young man had arisen; but the servant knew not. 
After waiting till the breakfast hour, and no one having seen 
Henry, the old man started to his room. 

“He has probably overslept himself,” said the old Greneral, 
as he was going. 

He was, however, met on the way up the stairs by a servant, 
who gave him the startling intelligence that the bed in “Mas 
Henry’s” room bad not been occupied, and that a candle was 
still burning on the stand. The General hastened into the 
room, walked up to the table, and saw the two letters left by 
his nephew. 

“What can it mean?” said he, as he adjusted his spectacles 
and proceeded to an examination of the epistles. 

He read the contents of the one addressed to himself, which 
were as follows: 

My Dear Uncle: I know you will be astonished and grieved 
when you find I am gone. You must excuse my abrupt and un- 
ceremonious departure. I knew, my kind uncle, if I stayed, you 
would endeavor to adjust a matter which will admit of no com- 
promise. I refer to the relations which once existed between 
myself and Miss Emily Burrell. You will be surprised to learn 
that all connection is now broken otf between myself and that 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


81 


young lady. I assure you I had good reasons for the course I 
have adopted. She 'proyed faithless, and I asked no explanation 
of her conduct, from the simple fact that my own senses fur- 
nished me with all the evidences of her duplicity that I could 
have required. Please send to her the letter you will find with 
this note. Believe me, my dear uncle, it grieved me to leave you 
thus; but if you had known my feelings, I know you would now 
exculpate me from blame. As I could not see you, I take this 
opportunity of bidding you an affectionate farewell. 

Your nephew, Henry. 

“ There is some mistake about this,” said the old man, after 
reading the note a second time; “there is some mistake about 
this, and I wish the poor boy had not acted so hastily. The 
letter to Emily shall be sent at once, and I shall learn from 
her what the difficulty is. I am satisfied it is some trifling 
lover’s quarrel, which will amount to nothing. I have set 
my heart on this match, and it must not be broken off by 
mere trifies.” So saying, he forwarded the letter as directed. 

Emily had sat up nearly the whole night upon which her 
rash lover was fiying along the road like a wild man. It was 
the first disappointment to her new-born love, and she felt it 
keenly. She had never learned that “ the course of true love 
never did run smooth.” She could imagine no reason why 
Henry had not visited her the previous evening, according to 
promise. Whenever, before this time, he had not complied 
with his promise, he always gave the reason of his failure by 
letter. If it had not been a visit whose’ object was to seal the 
contract of marriage, she would not be so uneasy. Hour after 
hour she had watched for him, until the heart was “sick with 
hope deferred.” Late that nig];it, when she heard the steed 
lumbering along the road, it sounded in her ears as a fearful 
foreboding of evil. Then she began to refiect upon what her 
cousin Walter had hinted at the day before. He had wished 
to warn her, and she had left him in a fit of anger. It could 
not be possible, she thought, that Henry was’trifiing with hei 

6 


82 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


feelings. How could he be so base and ungrateful? Had he 
not vowed, again and again, that he would be true? Yea, had 
he not even sworn, and invoked the wrath of heaven on his 
head, should he prove false? She then began to think that 
Walter Hallam was interested himself, and probably he had 
something to do with the non-appearance of Henry; may be 
Walter had murdered him, and his mangled body was now 
lying hidden in the forest. She shuddered. But how could 
she be so foolish as to suppose her cousin would be guilty of 
such a heinous crime? Henry was sick, perhaps; but thei 
he would have sent her word. 

While thus these distracting thoughts were rushing through 
her mind the morning after her lover’s flight, a letter was 
placed in her hands by one of Gfeneral Winston’s servants. 
With a trembling hand she tore the seal, and read: 

Miss Emily: I am gone from you forever I [The poor girl sick- 
ened and almost fainted; after awhile, however, she summoned 
up her courage, and read it to the end.] If we meet again, it 
will not be my seeking. It will not, I suppose, be necessary to 
state my reason for my conduct, as your own sense must suggest ’ 
at once that I have discovered your heartless designs in regard 
to myself. I am at a loss to conceive of any motive which could 
have induced you to play the part you have, unless it be but the 
vain and frivolous wish of a thoughtless flirt to trample upon 
the feelings of a human heart. I would not have believed it had 
I heard it from a third party. Though you have trifled with my 
affections, I shall not attempt to conceal the fact that I loved 
you; and if this confession can furnish any gratification to your 
vanity, much good may it do. I will say more: I will even say 
that I love you now ; but I hope to utterly tear your image from 
the depths of my bleeding heart. I loved you devotedly, Miss 
Emily, and with sincerity. I lavished all the affections of my 
whole soul upon you; and what return have I met with? But I 
trust I shall be able to forget you, and I will remember the many 
happy hours I have spent in your company as but the vagaries 
of an indistinct dream 0 it will be a severe struggle thus 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


83 


to banish from my mind an object once the center of all my 
thoughts and emotions. I once hoped that you would become the 
guide-star of my life — the beacon-light of my existence; but 
that hope is gone, and I am left alone to wander in the darkness 
of blighted love. When you read these lines I will be far away, 
and it will be accidental if you ever hear of me again. Not- 
withstanding the treatment I have received at your hands, I 
hope your pathway through life may be smoother than I dare 
wish mine to be. May kind angels watch over you and attend 
your every step. May all the blessings which I dare not hope 
for myself be showered on you. Farewell forever I 

Henry S. Winston. 

We can not attempt to describe Emily’s feelings when the 
perusal of the letter was finished. Perfectly innocent of the 
charges alleged against her, and ignorant of the grounds upon 
which they were based, she could not imagine in what thing 
she could have given cause for even suspicion of faithlessness. 
One stern fact, however, stood prominently before her, and 
that was, her lover was lost to her forever. When she thought 
of the cruel, cutting words her lover used, she shed bitter 
tears of .anguish. But, after awhile, when nature was some- 
what exhausted, and her feelings were more calm, and she 
was again endeavoring to find some clew to the mysterious 
event which had happened, the conviction suddenly fastened 
upon her mind that Walter Hallam was in some way connected 
with the disappearance of her betrothed. The above-men- 
tioned individual, at that very moment, was standing in the 
door, watching, with intense interest, her every movement. 

“Cousin Emily!” 

She started as if she had been stung by an adder. 

“My dear cousin, what distresses you so?” he said, kindly. 

The question maddened her, because she was now convinced 
that she was indebted to Hallam for her present trouble. 

“Walter Hallam!” said she, looking up with swollen eyes 
and a flushed face, “I will no longer attempt to conceal the 


84 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


opinion I have of you; I will speak out; and I will say t be- 
lieve you are the cause of my present distress.” 

“How is that, Emily?” asked the young man, in surprise. 

“Walter, do not pretend to be ignorant of an event which 
you yourself brought about. You shall gain nothing by 
It.” 

“Emily, for God’s sake, explain yourself. What do you 
mean?” 

“Can you deny,” she said, with angry, flashing eyes, 
“that you prevented Mr. Winston from coming here yester- 
day, and that you were the cause of his abrupt departure 
last night?” 

“Emily,” said Walter, with more than usual earnestness, 
“I swear by the heaven above us I knew not till this moment 
he was gone! You accuse me wrongfully, cousin.” 

“You made threats in regard to Mr. Winston yesterday?” 

“True; and I had some words with him yesterday evening 
on his return from here, and” 

“He was here yesterday, then?” cried Emily, interrupting 
him. 

“Why, did you not see him?” 

“No, I did not.” 

“ There is something strange about this. I saw him entei 
the avenue, and I immediately left the house to demand an 
explanation of his conduct, when he should return home. He 
came tearing up the road in a few moments after I reached it. 
He appeared to be crazy. But tell me, what is the meaning 
of all this?” 

“Walter!” said she, in a firm, determined voice, “I- will 
speak candidly ; I hve Henry Winston^ and we were betrothed 
lovers. This morning I received a letter, stating that he was 
gone foreoer. And now, to speak plainly, I believe you had 
something to do with his leaving.” 

“All I know about it is, he struck me yesterday, and ran 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 85 

like a sneaking coward. I told you the fellow was a damnable 
villain, and he has proved it beyond all controversy.” 

“Walter,” said Emily, rising, “I will not stay to hear you 
apply such epithets to one before whose face you would not 
dare to use such language. I will leave you.” 

“Cousin Emily,” said the young man, with a reddened face, 
and standing before her, “read this before you go, and if he 
be not what I say, then you may call me what you please.” 
And he handed her the letter from his sister to Henry 
Winston. 

After perusing the letter, she was painfully puzzled and per- 
plexed. She sat, with her head down, without speaking. 

“Emily,” said Walter, after a short pause, “I desired to 
show you this yesterday; but you left me in a very angry 
mood.” 

“Walter,” said she, starting up as if a sudden idea had 
struck her, “this is a ruse of your own. You forged this let- 
ter! You did it to shake my confidence in Mr. Winston!” 

“If I did, may God strike me dead on the spot! I found 
it in his pocket, with this miniature. You know I could not 
have forged the picture. This man Winston, my dear cousin,” 
said Walter, with some show of tender feeling, “is i]i& mur- 
derer of my sister, and has sought to destroy your peace of 
mind. I wished to warn you, but you would not let me.” 

“0 Walter! forgive me. I do not know what I am saying. 
I am so wretched.” 

“I speak but the truth,” resumed Walter. “I say he is a 
d — d scoundrel, and deserves the gibbet, if any murderer ever 
did. You should be thankful you have escaped the hellish 
monster. *I am sorry he has made such an impression on your 
mind.” 

“ Let us drop the subject, if you please,” said Emily. 

“ I will never mention his name to you again, Emily. But 
there is one whom you can trust — one you need not fear — one 


86 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


who will anticipate your every wish — and one who will en- 
deavor to make you contented and happy through life. And 
now, I again ask you, if you will cast off such a friend? My 
dear cousin, give me your hand and heart. I ” 

“Walter Hallam!” she quickly cried, “if you do not wish 
to forfeit my friendship, never mention that subject again. 0 
God ! I can never love any body ! I wish I could die ! Leave 
me, Walter, leave me instantly!” 

Walter gazed at her for an instant in seeming sorrow and 
surprise ; but he concluded it would be the best policy not to 
urge his cause at present; so he left the apartment. 

In a moment afterward James Burrell entered the parlor, 
where she was still sitting, in painful thought. 

“0 brother!” cried Emily, throwing herself into his arms; 
“I am so miserable!” and she sobbed aloud. 

“Emily,” said the brother, kindly and tenderly, “my dear 
sister, what does this mean? What troubles you so?” 

“Bead this, James; read it,” she said, handing him a letter. 

James, after hastily reading and returning the document, 
remarked : 

“It is incomprehensible to me. But General Winston is 
waiting for you in the front parlor. Come, dry your tears; 
he can probably explain it all to your satisfaction.” 

The poor girl was too wretched and troubled to care for out- 
ward appearances. So quickly leaving her brother, she has- 
tened into the parlor, with the undried tear glittering on her 
pale cheek. The old General stood before her. 

“Emily, my poor child,” said the old man, taking her by 
the hand, “I am sorry to see you thus. You have been weep- 
ing, child.” 

“0 General Winston!” and she sank into a chair, and 
covered her face with her handkerchief. 

“Emily,” said the General, in a kind voice, “we must talk 
plainly. There is no necessity for concealment. Talk to me 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 87 

like you would to your own father. Now, what is the diffi- 
culty between you and my foolish nephew?” 

“ 0, sir, I know not. I should ask you that question.” 

“ There is a mistake somewhere, or somehow, Emily. The 
foolish boy left last night without even bidding adieu to his old 
uncle. I know he would not have acted so had he not been 
in deep distress of mind. This morning I found in his room 
two letters — one to myself, the other to you. I presume you 
have read yours?” 

“I have, and I can not comprehend it.” 

“ He seems to think you have been trifling with him.” 

“I know it- but, as God is my witness, I am not aware of 
ever having given the slightest cause for suspicion.” 

“I knew that, Emily; I knew you were true; but the boy 
is laboring under a terrible mistake of some kind.” 

“He, sir,” said Emily, hesitatingly, “may have been trifling 
with me.” 

“Do not accuse him, Emily, of such perjury. I Imow better 
than that. A more high-minded, honorable boy does not 
breathe than Henry Winston. He loved you as truly as ever 
man loved woman. I know there is some mistake about this. 
Is it possible you can have no idea in regard to it? What 
took place yesterday between you and him ?” 

“I did not see him at all yesterday; though I understand 
he was seen in the avenue.” 

“Strange — very strange!” said the old man, as if talking t.o 
himself “Emily,” said the General, rising, “I shall write to 
my nephew to return immediately. I am satisfied he has 
made a most foolish mistake. Until I can hear from him, let 
me ask you not to suppose him, for one moment, /a&e to you. 
I know he loves you, and I trust, in a short time, to see the 
wayward boy kneel at your feet and ask pardon for his 
conduct.” 

“I hope. General Winston, ^ou will not lower me in the 


88 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


estimation of your nephew by mentioning this to him as at my 
request.” 

‘‘Fear not, my child; I shall write in my own name.” 
Saying which, the Greneral took his leave, and was soon wend- 
ing his way homeward. Arriving at home, he seated himself 
and wrote a letter ta Henry — telling him he had committed a 
great blunder from some cause or other; that, to his own cer- 
tain knowledge, Emily still loved him, and was seriously dis- 
turbed on account of his rash conduct; that he had not the 
slightest reason to doubt her sincerity; that he must return at 
once and fulfill the contract, etc. 

This letter, owing to the exciting events which soon after- 
ward occurred, was never received by the person to whom it 
was addressed. 

The next day James Burrell departed for West Point, and 
Walter Hallam, finding it was useless to remain longer, left 
for his home. 

Poor Emily was left alone to weep over her sorrow and dis- 
appointment. Many, many unhappy hours did she spend. 
Henry (though she could not account for his strange conduct) 
she still loved, with that true devotion which alone woman can 
feel. His image was impressed indelibly upon her heart, and 
she cherished it with a feeling approaching almost to madness 
Time rolled on; but amid all its changes it brought no conso- 
lation to the bleeding heart of Emily Burrell. 


THE confederate SPY. 


89 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“Then banners rise, and cannon-signal roars, 

Then peals the war-like thunder of the drum. 

Thrills the loud fife, the trumpet-fiourish pours, \ _ 

And patriot hopes awake, and doubts are dumb." 

The 20tli day of December, 1860, had now come. The 
storm which had l^en gathering for years past was about to 
burst forth in sudden fury. A President had been elected by 
a party opposed not only to the social institutions of the slave- 
' holding states, but to the fundamental principles which under- 
lie the government itself This party, which had been steadily 
increasing in numerical strength for years, now raised a howl 
in the wildest fanaticism and frenzy, and, taking advantage 
of an unfortunate division in the political organizations of the 
country, elevated to the chief magistracy a man of their own 
choice, and of their own destructive principles. It had been 
predicted long before by the far-seeing John C. Calhoun, that 
whenever any party should seize the reins of power, and inau- 
gurate an administration upon the principle of centralization — 
or, in other words, that the several states sustain the same 
relation to the General Government that counties do to a state 
government — a dissolution of the Union would be the inevitable 
consequence. The time had now come for the verification of 
(kalhoun’s prediction; for Mr. Lincoln asserted the very iden- 
tical political dogma which he declared would lead to the 
destruction of the government. The prophecy of the great 
advocate of state sovereignty was literally fulfilled. On the 
20th of December, 1860, South Carolina, claiming her right 
as a mere partner in the Federal compact of Union, and con- 
ceiving her dignity outraged^- and the security of her rights 


90 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


threatened by the election of a President whose principles 
were so antagonistic to hers, passed the ordinance of secession. 
Public sentiment was ripe for revolution, and it required but a 
bold leader to put the ball in motion. On the 9th of J anuary, 
1861, the star of Mississippi’s destiny glittered side by side 
with that of South Carolina. One after another the southern 
states wheeled into line, under the banner of defiance, ready 
to repel any invasion of their practically claimed rights, or to 
meet the opposite party in a spirit of friendship and form a 
treaty of peace. But that party chose rather to adopt the 
suicidal policy of coercion, and expressed its wrathful determi- 
nation to apply physical force for the restoration of a Union 
which had become hateful and intolerable. 

The “Peace Congress” met. Proposition after proposition 
was made for reconciliation; compromise after compromise 
was offered; but were all rejected. The Republican party 
would hear to nothing but absolute submission, and an uncon- 
ditional restoration of the Union to its previous condition. 
The Congress adjourned without accomplishing any thing. 

On the 4th of March the new President took his seat. The 
inaugural address was eagerly and anxiously looked for. It, 
however, disappointed the feeble hopes of those who expected 
the adoption of a pacific policy, and declared that the integrity 
of the government should be preserved, and that the “stars 
and stripes ” should float in triumph over every foot of soil 
which the United States had claimed. Seventy-five thousand 
volunteers were called out for the suppression of the rebellion. 
All hope of compromise was now destroyed, and the Union 
was indeed dismembered. 

The Confederate Government was immediately organized, 
and steps were hastily taken to meet the formidable prepara- 
tions making in the North. Without almost any of the usual 
and necessary appurtenances to a regular government, the 
Confederacy was born to be baptized with blood in its infancy. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


91 


The civilized world seemed to look on in apparent indifference 
as to ultimate results; or if any emotion was manifested, it was 
akin to a feeling of. rejoicing over the downfall of republican- 
ism. Crowned heads considered the dissolution but as the 
legitimate and necessary consequence of the experiment of 
self-government. They thought it would now be incontestably 
demonstrated that monarchy is the only form of government 
adapted to the wants and requirements of society. If any 
real sympathy at all was shown for either party, it was deci- 
dedly in favor of the North. It is true, a strict neutrality was 
early declared by England; but yet the United States was 
treated as a superior power endeavoring to crush a rebellion of 
stupendous magnitude. France placed herself in the attitude 
of an ancient seeress, so that in whatever manner the great 
struggle should terminate, she would be in a position to treat 
favorably with either or both parties. All our claims to recog- 
nition, and our right to admission into the community of na- 
tions, which, if our social institutions had been acceptable to 
the fastidious taste of false philanthropy, would have been at 
once acknowledged, were totally disregarded. The Confed- 
eracy stood absolutely alone — a mark for the shafts of a hos- 
tile world. Without a treasury, without a navy, without an 
army, she quailed not before the angry frowns of kingdoms, 
principalities, and powers. Kelying on nothing but her own 
strong arm, the indomitable spirit, the stubborn patriotism 
of her people, she stood forth like a solitary giant, ready to 
vindicate her rights against the attacks of northern vandalism 
and the moral power of combined Europe. 

Preparations for our subjugation were made on a grand 
scale in the North. It was the intention to march straight 
through to Kichmond, “rough-shod” over the “ragged rebels.” 
Wagon-loads of handcuffs came rattling and jingling along in 
the splendid train; and with these Confederate officers were to 
be manacled and paraded in triumph through the streets of 


92 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


tlie Federal Capital. Fine ladies, dressed and bedecked in the 
'gay, gaudy colors of northern fashion, who had come to wit- 
ness the signal victory, were seen amid the well-organized host. 
What a splendid procession ! On and on they went, in the 
pomp of their prfde and the glory of their strength, with 
hearts swelling in anticipation of the magnificent performances 
and exploits that were to immortalize the heroes of the 21st 
of July. They reached the plains of Manassas. Then they 
rushed, with yelling impetuosity, against the solid ranks of the 
stubborn southrons, expecting the frightened rebels to give 
way and fly in terror at the mere sight of Yankee valor and 
chivalry. But what was their surprise, astonishment and 
chagrin when the “Grand Army” was seen flying in disorder 
and confusion to the fortifications of Washington City! The 
rebels prevailed. God, in his wisdom, did not permit this 
horde of vainglorious braggarts to trample down the vindica- 
tors of human liberty and the rights of man. Five hundred 
thousand men were now called for by the Federal Govern- 
ment, with the intention of crushing the infamous rebellion 
by overwhelming force. The Confederacy raised an army of 
corresponding magnitude, and the great struggle now com- 
menced on a scale so extensive that the whole world looked on 
in amazement. Armies were raised with a celerity, battles 
were fought with a rapidity, that completely puzzled the mili- 
tary chieftains of Europe. No four years in the annals of 
this world can present a history marked by so great a diversity 
of bloody scenes and gory events. 

But, as the reader is familiar with the history of the late 
war, or rather as it is not our province to write its history, we 
will proceed with our story. 

Henry Winston, after his return from Kentucky, volun- 
teered his services in the first call for troops. With a magna- 
nimity which was by no means uncommon or rare in the first 
days of the revolution, he refused all offers of promotion and 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


93 


office, atid attached himself as a private to a compaoj in the 
9th Mississippi Regiment, which was stationed nearly a year 
at Pensacola. At the expiration of its term of service the 
regiment was disbanded, and Winston soon after joined the 
15th Mississippi — a regiment distinguished for its valor and 
its heroic achievements upon many a dark and bloody field. 

We will now commence at the latter part of September, 
1862. About that time the army under General Van Dorn 
took up the line of march from Davis's Mills, sixteen miles 
north of Holly Springs, and proceeded in the direction of 
Corinth, Miss. On the night of the 2d of October the troops 
bivouacked at Chewalla, the first outpost of the garrison of 
Corinth. Early on the morning of the 3d the march was 
resumed. When within four or five miles of the little town 
of Corinth, the enemy’s pickets were met and driven in. 
Steadily advancing, the Confederate troops soon reached the 
outer line of intrenchments, and then both parties were en- 
gaged in the work of death. The incessant rattle of musketry 
and the thundering peals of the open-mouthed cannon rever- 
berated among the neighboring hills. Amid all this confusion 
and horrible din could be plainly heard the shrieks and groans 
of the wounded and dying, the shouts and curses of the living, 
all mingled together in one terrible medley. But every one 
recollects the battle of Corinth, so disastrous to the western 
army. On the first day the Confederate forces fought with a 
desperation and stubbornness that could not be withstood, pud 
when the sun sank to rest the enemy was driven to his last 
stronghold. The “stars and stripes” could be seen waving 
from the forts around the town. One hour more of daylight 
and Corinth, with its army, would have been ours. But no 
Joshua was there to subvert the laws of nature and check the 
sun in his downward course. All was lost. 

The company to which Henry Winston belonged was de- 
tached early Friday morning (the 3d) and thro yn out in 


94 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


advance as skirmishers. They were deployed, and moved 
slowly and cautiously through thick bushes and briars, keep- 
ing up the line as well as the nature of the ground would 
permit. Coming to a field, they moved through it in regu- 
larity and order, meeting no resistance, with the exception of 
a few shells, thrown at random, which went whizzing high 
overhead, and bursting far back in the rear. When they 
reached the opposite side of the field, and advanced a short 
distance through the woods, they came in contact with the 
enemy’s skirmishers. Brisk firing now commenced on both 
sides; but the Federals were soon driven back to their line of 
intrenchments. The Confederates moved up to within one 
hundred yards of the breastworks, and fought several regi- 
ments. For two hours they kept up a continuous firing; but 
it last, seeing that they were not supported, and their ammu- 
nition being exhausted, and themselves worried, they were 
compelled to fall back in haste, leaving several of their com- 
rades wounded on the field; among them was Winston. He 
received a Wound in the left arm, but might have made his 
escape had he not at the same time been struck by a spent 
ball, which, however, retained sufficient force to knock him 
senseless to the earth. When he recovered, in a short time 
afterward, he found himself surrounded by a small squad of 
Yankees. 

“Water, men, for heaven’s sake, water 1” said the suffering 
Confederate, in a weak and feeble voice. 

Some one of the party (without reflection, of course), obey- 
ing the first impulse of humanity to relieve distress, handed 
him a canteen. Winston eagerly seized it, and emptied it of 
its contents before returning it. 

“Py Got!” said one of the party, “you drinks like a boss. 
You is von tarn starved reb. Vere you pe from, anyhow?” 

“What command do I belong to, you mean?” said Winston. 

“Yesh. Got tarn! vot regiment you pe from?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


95 


“The 15th Mississippi.” 

“Missippi, eh? Py Grot! I no like dem Missip. Vot you 
got in yo pocket? Any monish?” 

“None that would be of any use to you.” 

‘•You have no monish — no watch, eh?” 

Winston made no reply to this last inquiry, for he was 
wearing a fine gold watch, which he did not wish to lose. He 
quickly pulled his purse from his pocket, and handed it to the 
wretch, in hopes that his attention would be diverted from the 
watch. 

“You got no watch? Py Got! me sees for meself. I make 
you give him up,” said the blue-coat, attempting to search 
him. 

“My friend,” said Winston, “would you rob a wounded 
soldier, who has had the misfortune to fall into your hands? 
I am completely at your mercy — perfectly helpless; and now 
would you search me after I have given you my purse? Is 
this the way one soldier should treat another? Is this the 
way you fight for the Union?” 

“0, Got tarn! me fight for meself, too. Me find one tarn 
reb, me take his monish and his watch. It ish confishcate. 
Give up de watch — me no search you.” 

“Come ahead, Hans,” said another Yankee, “I’ll help you 
search him, and we ’ll go halvers." • 

“No, py Got! me no halvers. It ish my prisoner. Me 
shoot his arm jes to git his watch.” 

“Go on, then; the feller’ll pizen you, though. Them rebs 
carries pizen just to catch sich greenhorns as you. Ef you 
touch it, it will kill quicker than snake pizen.” 

“ De hell you say ! You no fool me dat way.” 

“ Go ahead, hard-head ; but I would n’t be surprised to see 
you drop dead in five minutes after you touch the pizen.” 

“By Got! how can you search him den?” 

“0, I understand the business.” 


96 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Dat is one Yankee trick Me search him meself, an if he 
pizen me dead, me will kill him, if he pe mine own mudher, 
by Got!” 

Saying which the blue-coat unbuttoned the military jacket 
of our wounded hero, and, seizing the watch-guard, cut it 
with his knife, and drew forth a chronometer that caused his 
eyes to dance with joy. At this juncture a new comer stepped 
up, in the garb of a Federal captain. 

“So, Mr. Winston,” said the ofl&cer, with a mock bow, “I 
find you among the Philistines.” 

Henry turned his head, and beheld Walter Hallam gazing 
at him with a sarcastic smile, that caused a cold chill to creep 
through his frame. However, Winston was one who feared 
not mortal man. 

“You find me at present,” said Henry, in reply to Hallam, 
“among a set of thieves, who do not scruple to rob the 
wounded and defenseless.” 

“You is a tarn tief yoself, mine Got!” said the Dutchman. 

“Come, Mr. Winston, no hard names, sir,” said Hallam. 
“You recollect our last meeting was any thing but agreeable. 
You remember how you grossly insulted me, and then fled?” 

“It is a falsehood, sir. You attempted to detain me by 
force, and I knocked you down, and passed on.” 

• “Passed on! You struck me, and then ran off, as none but 
a coward would do.” 

“You are an infamous liar!” exclaimed Winston, now thor- 
oughly aroused at this insinuation against his courage. 

“Cowards can rant, Winston, when no danger threatens. 
But I repeat, sir, you insulted me, and ran like a coward. It 
was adding insult to injury, for you are the murderer of my 
sister. You attempted to deceive my cousin; and when I asked 
you to explain your conduct, you struck me and ran, and left 
the country at the dead hour of night, like a d— d coward. 
Denv it if you dare.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 97 

“ I do deny it, and if you think I am a coward, even with 
one arm, I will fight you on the spot.” 

‘‘No, sir; I shall not allow you that chance now. I once 
intended to challenge you, but that time has passed. I no 
longer consider you a gentleman.” 

“Vile dastard! you make that a pretext to avoid an honor- 
able fight.” 

“And you, sir, are taking advantage of your position as a 
prisoner to call names and apply epithets, which you would 
not dare do if we were equal,” said Hallam. 

“ If you think that a protection, I will waive it willingly.” 

“ If you should, sir, I would not place myself on an equality 
with one who can not claim the privileges of a gentleman.” 

“Sneaking poltroon!” exclaimed Winston, springing to his 
feet — and, utterly forgetful of time, place, and circumstances, 
he planted a blow in the face of Hallam — “ take that for your 
impudence. Now challenge me, if you want to.” 

“Winston,” said the enraged Hallam, “that blow shall cost 
you your life. You shall die on the spot. Seize him, boys! 
bind him, and shoot the d — d rebel dog.” 

“By Grot! dat ish right,” said the watch thief; “let the tarn 
rebel pe shot. Got tarn! I’ll vinish im.” 

Half a dozen Yankees closed in around the one-armed Con- 
federate. Poor Winston was brought to his senses. 

“In God’s name, men, are you going to murder me in cold 
blood?” 

“Colt plood or warm plood, te cap’n saysh you must pe 
kilt. Got tarn! me no likes you nohow,.” 

“ Mr. Hallam,” said Winston, in a calm, firm voice, “ if you 
are an officer, I appeal to your sense of justice and honor. 
I would scorn to beg for my life ; all I ask is fair play. This 
is a private quarrel between ourselves; and if you are a gen- 
tleman and a brave man, you will allow me the privilege of a 
fair fight. You can not screen yourself behind your military 

7 


98 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


dignity and your fastidious notions in regard to caste without 
degrading yourself as a man. The insult I have offered is suf- 
ficient to level all distinctions of that character. Wounded as 
I am, I can nevertheless fight with pistols, and this I propose 
to do. Now', sir, if you are not a base coward, lay aside your 
assumed dignity, and meet me like a gentleman. To use your 
rank as you propose is the climax of baseness.” 

“ I can not put myself on an equality with a man who could 
strike me and run. Do your work, men.” 

“You are an arrant coward, as I thought; but do your 
worst. Heaven will yet avenge such a foul murder.” 

“No time to talk about heaven now. Bind him, men!” 

“There is no necessity for that,” replied Winston. “I can 
meet death without being bound, if you will murder me.” 

“Bind him, I say!” shouted Hallam. 

Poor Winston, with his bleeding arm, was now bound. He 
gave himself up for lost, and, with a silent prayer, he stood 
calm and collected in the midst of the merciless rufl&ans. 
Seeing that it would be useless to plead with such vile 
wretches and pickpockets, he opened not his mouth, but 
awaited his fate in silence. 

“Now, boys,” said Hallam, when the prisoner was bound, 
“step back ten paces. Beady!” The feet were thrown back, 
and the guns clicked ominously, but Winston looked at the 
wretches without the change of a muscle. “Aim!” 

“Hold! hold!!” cried a deep voice, in stentorian tones. 

Winston at once recognized it as the same voice he had 
heard in Emily’s bower. A Federal colonel rushed between 
the parties with a drawn sword. With a face burning with 
indignation, he ordered the guns to be lowered. 

“ Hell and fury, soldiers! murder a wounded prisoner? And 
you here. Captain Hallam, the instigator of this? By Gf — d! 
sir, it is d — d cowardly ! You are a disgrace to the cause in 
which we are fighting. You ought to be court-martialed.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


99 


“Colonel,” said Hallam, stepping up to his side, and whis- 
pering in his ear, “it is that d— d rascal, Winston. Do you 
not remember him?” 

“I care not who it is, sir. By G — d! would you disgrace 
yourself and our government by such an act of villainy. 
G— d d — n it! I’m ashamed of you. Here, Sergeant Jones, 
take this prisoner to tbe, rear; and if a hair of his head is 
injured, by the living God, you shall suffer for it! You, 
Captain Hallam, return with your men to your proper place, 
sir.” 

The Yankees, thus interrupted in their bloody purpose, 
retired sneakingly to their intrenchment. Winston, in the 
care of Sergeant Jones, had not gone far to the rear toward 
Corinth before he heard a wild, enthusiastic shout, such as 
only Confederate soldiers could make, causing the welkin to 
ring. It was the 33d Mississippi Regiment charging the first 
line of the enemy’s works. The fact is known to many that 
this charge was made without bayonets and with empty guns! 
The Federals lost not a man; but as soon as the gallant and 
daring Mississippians of the 33d were within fifty yards, 
several regiments of Yankees fired off their pieces with con- 
siderable effect, and then took to their heels. Winston looked 
back, and saw an old dirty flag, torn and rent, proudly waving 
on the top of the enemy’s intrenchmeiits. It was the “stars 
and bars.” But he had no time to pause, for the discomfited 
Yankees, hotly pursued by the Confederates, were soon at his 
heels, and he was caused to “double-quick” in order to pre- 
vent recapture. On they went, pell-mell, and in a short time 
reached the strongly-fortified town of Corinth. 

Our wounded prisoner was immediately taken to the hos- 
pital, where his wound was examined and dressed, after the 
Yankees had been attended to. The artillery and musketry 
continued to roar and rattle at intervals during the whole 
evening. When night put an end to the contest, the Federals 
LoFC. 


100 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


had been driven in on all sides, and were now all huddled 
together in their last fortifications. Corinth would undoubt- 
edly have fallen the next day had not the Yankees been 
allowed to heavily re-enforce during the night from the gar- 
rison of Bolivar. Many Confederate soldiers will recollect 
that the cars were heard the whole night long rolling into the 
besieged town loaded with re-enforcements. 

It was about eight o’clock that night when Henry Winston 
was aroused from an uneasy slumber into which he had fallen, 
by a light shining full in his face. Opening wide his eyes, he 
discovered an officer, surrounded by several others, dressed in 
Federal uniform, gazing earnestly into his countenance. 

“I think,” remarked one, in an undertone, “he looks more 
intelligent than any of the others.” 

“I believe he does,” replied the officer; and, after looking 
closely for an instant, he seemed satisfied with his inspection. 

Turning to one who appeared to be surgeon in charge, 
he said: 

“Doctor, is that man,” pointing to Winston, “badly 
wounded?” 

“His wound,” replied the surgeon, “is rather severe, but 
not dangerous.” 

“He could travel, I suppose?” 

“He could, sir, without any danger.” 

“Then send him to my quarters at once,” said the officer, 
in a whisper, which Winston did not hear. 

He then turned and hastily left the building. He had 
gone but a short time before a file of armed soldiers entered, 
preceded by the surgeon in charge. 

“That is the man,” said the Doctor, when they had 
reached Winston. 

The soldiers, going to Henry, said, “You will go with us.’ 

“And for what?” asked Winston, half-rising. 

“Ask no questions, but come on,” said one, sternly. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


101 


Henry, not comprehending the purpose, nevertheless obeyed 
without asking any further question. Let the purpose be 
what it might, he knew it would be folly in his present con- 
dition to resist; so he resolved, since nothing better could be 
done, to submit to whatever fate might have in^ store for him. 
As soon as they reached the door, the two soldiers placed 
themselves, one on either side of the prisoner, and pointed in 
the direction they were to go. Henry obeyed without saying 
a word, though he thought the strange movement rather a 
suspicious proceeding. He feared that Walter Hallam had 
something to do with this unusual procedure ; and, if so, he 
had nothing to hope. His fears on this score were, however, 
groundless ; for after a brief walk they arrived in front of a 
two -story building, which stood about two hundred yards 
north-east of the old Tishomingo Hotel. One of the guards, 
opening a door, motioned to Winston to walk in. Henry 
entered the room, and found himself alone with the officer 
who had left the hospital a short time before. 

“ Be seated, young man,” said the officer, in a kind tone, 
motioning to a chair. “I have something to say to you. I 
presume you know in whose presence you now are ?” 

“I have not the honor of your acquaintance, sir,” replied 
Winston, in a tone of indifference. 

The officer did not seem very well pleased at this mark of 
nonchalance^ but he appeared to forget it in a moment, and 
fell into a brown study, that lasted for several minutes. Our 
hero sat perfectly still, and resolved to maintain the silence as 
long as the Yankee should. The officer spoke. 

“So you belong to the rebel army, sir?” he said, looking 
Winston full in the face. 

“ I belong, sir, to the Confederate army.” 

“I am extremely sorry,” continued the officer, not noticing 
the stress with which Henry pronounced ‘ Confederate,’ “ that 
so many young men like yourself have, under mistaken notions 


102 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


of duty, been induced to array themselves in opposition 
to their country’s true interest. Many have been inveigled 
into this rebellious movement by designing politicians. Men 
who once held office of profit and trust under the old govern- 
ment have, for the sake of attaining higher power, turned 
traitors, and made the southern people believe that it was the 
intention of the United States Grovernment to interfere with 
their institutions. I trust, however, that when their eyes are 
opened to the true state of the case, this misguided people will 
return to their allegiance. To all of those who in ignorance 
have enlisted in the defense of the so-called Confederacy, our 
government offers a full pardon, upon condition of laying 
down their arms; and she now offers it to you.” 

Winston made no reply, but waited patiently to learn why 
he had been sent for. The officer continued, after a brief 
pause : 

“You seem to hesitate, my friend. Well, now I ask you, as 
a man of sense, if it would not be well to desert a cause now^ 
which can not but be unsuccessful, and which will bring cer- 
tain ruin upon all those who will persist in upholding it? 
Many of the southern people have been forced into the rebel 
service by the odious act of conscription passed by a spurious 
congress. Such ought not to be punished with the guilty. 
But if they remain in it from a false sense of honor, they 
must take their chances. The United States Government is 
determined, and she is amply prepared, to crush this infamous 
rebellion; and it will be done — I tell you it will be done. 
Her resources are sufficient; there is no scarcity of men, 
money, and war materials; and, sooner or later, she will be 
triumphant. Mild means have been used, and will still be 
used, for the restoration of the Union, until it is seen that 
those in rebellion will accept no honorable terms. After that, 
fire and sword will devastate the southern land. The north- 
ern patriots will flock, with sorrowful hearts from every hill 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


103 


and vale like gangs of locusts, and carry desolation to every 
household and fireside. But, my friend, I must be brief; my 
time is precious. I think you will see as I do, and I advise 
you to escape the fearful doom which awaits those engaged in 
this wicked movement. Return to our time-honored fiag, and 
you shall have a position which you are qualified to fill, if you 
will do your country a service. She demands it of you this 
very night. If you will do this, you shall not only have a 
position in our army, but be well compensated for your 
trouble. Will you do it?” . 

“I can not agree to perform any service until I know its 
nature and object,” said Winston, who, although sufiering 
from his wound, nevertheless felt some curiosity to know what 
he would be required to do. “What is the service, sir?” 

The officer appeared satisfied that his reasoning had “had 
the desired effect,” and he proceeded to reveal his plan. 

“Young man, be not startled or surprised when I tell you 
what this service is. It is all right and fair in war. You can 
accomplish it this very night, and your country demands it at 
your hands. Do it and you are a made man.V The oflBcer 
drew nearer to Winston, and whispered a moment in his ear. 

“General Price! My God!” exclaimed Henry, horror- 
stricken at the proposition. “You are surely jesting — you 
can not mean it!” 

“My friend, I meant what I said.” 

“Let me hope, for the honor of the country from which 
you come, that you do not mean that?” 

“I repeat it, I meant what I said; and if you will do it, I 
will pay you one thousand dollars in gold as soon as the work 
is accomplished.” 

“ One thousand dollars T said Winston, in a tone which 
could be construed into surprise at either the smallness or 
largeness of the amount. The officer understood the latter. 

“ Yes, every dollar of it, in pure gold.'' 


104 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“ One thousand dollars , said Winston, with a curl of the 
lip. “ You must mistake me, sir, for one of your own vile 
race<” 

“Do you know, sir, to whom you are talking ?” exclaimed 
the astonished officer. “I am GtENERal Rosecrans !”. 

“I care not who you are! My God!” said Winston, in 
visible indignation, “ I would not thus degrade myself, and 
heap deserved damnation on my soul, for one thousand thou- 
sand — no, not for all the gold in the United States ! And if 
this is all you have to say, you may as well send me back. I 
would die before 1 would do it.” 

“ Then go and take your chances,” said the officer, hastily 
rising and going to the door. “I expected better of you 
than this. But I have no time to bandy words with a stub 
born rebel. Here, guard, take him back.” 

Thus ended the interview between General Rosecrans and 
our hero. Henry was taken back to the hospital, where he 
slept until awakened by the booming of the cannon, early next 
morning. The result of the second day’s fight is too well 
knowu. By mismanagement and blunders, the day was lost to 
the Confederates. The closing scene was a heroic charge from 
a small portion of General Price’s army, led by the lamented 
Colonel Rogers. It was the last effort of a “forlorn hope.” 
Poor fellows ! many of them never returned from that 
assault. God grant that they may reap their reward in heaven ! 

It was during the confusion attendant upon this charge 
that Henry Winston made his escape. About ten o’clock the 
whole army commenced a disorderly retreat, and no perma- 
nent halt was made till they arrived at the pleasant village of 
Holly Springs. Thus ended the battle of Corinth, which was 
but the beginning of a long series of disasters and misfortunes. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


105 


CHAPTER IX. 

“They that bear 

The humble dead unhonored to their homes, 

Pass now i' th’ streets no lordly bridal train, 

With its exulting music; and the wretch 
Who on the marble steps of some proud hall 
Flings himself down to die, in his last need 
And agony of famine, doth behold 
No scornful guests, with their long purple robes, 

To the banquet sweeping by.” 

Eight months had now passed since Henry Winston was 
wounded at the battle of Corinth. The army had fallen back 
from Holly Springs to Abbeville, from Abbeville to Grenada, 
and from Grenada to Canton. It was now encamped about 
eight miles from the last-mentioned village, on a spot whose 
only striking feature was scarcity, of water. The camp was 
situated about a quarter of a mile from a filthy little creek, 
with holes of stagnant water, in which the genuine liquid was 
concealed from view by a beautiful covering of green-colored 
scum. Soldiers were seen strolling along the banks of this 
creek, searching for a hole which might not be the habita- 
tion of detested wiggle-tails^^' or in which hogs had not laved 
their burning sides. Many a Confederate general was bitterly 
cursed upon the banks of that same dirty stream for confin- 
ing men to such a water-tight spot, while the “ stars and 
wreath ” was quenching his thirst from cool cisterns that were 
hermetically sealed to the troops ; which operation was per- 
formed by hiding the handles of the pumps, or by placing a 
guard over the precious beverage, who was like the ill-natured 
“dog” in ^sop’s Fables, and could neither drink himself nor 
suffer others to do it. 


106 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


One hot summer day, in the latter part of June, 1863, when 
the sun in his wrath was pouring down his vengeful rays, and 
scorching the very earth, and the poor soldier was compelled, 
in order to prevent being baked alive, to conceal himself 
under the foliage of the forest trees, or stretch a blanket over a 
bush under which three or four would crouch like Esquimaux 
in a shower of rain in the frigid zone, a courier rode up to the 
head-quarters of Colonel Farrell and delivered to that officer 
an order. Several soldiers, smoking with heat, came creeping 
out from under their “bake-ovens,” and proceeded to the 
Colonel’s tent, hoping, in heaven’s name, to hear an order to 
move to where there was “ much water.” Colonel Farrell, 
after reading the document, seemed to reflect for a moment, 
and then, turning to an orderly, said : “You will order pri- 
vate Henry Winston to report at once to my quarters.” 

“Private Henry Winston,” being a soldier not in the habit 
of straggling, was readily found, and very soon made his ap- 
pearance at the head -quarters of the regiment. 

“Winston,” said Colonel Farrell, “I have just received an 
order calling for a man of a certain description, and I believe 
you will answer to it. I shall, therefore, order you to report 
forthwith to General Johnston, whose head-quarters are at 
Canton.” 

Private Henry Winston possessed one quality which every 
good soldier ought to have — that of asking no unnecessary 
questions. Taking it for granted that the Colonel knew best 
whether he would, answer to the description or not, he obeyed 
without hesitation, and arrived in due time at the village of 
Canton. He immediately reported to General Johnston’s ad- 
jutant; but that officer referred him , to the General himself. 
Going into the room, according to direction, he found General 
Johnston alone in a profound study. So intently was he occu- 
pied with his own thoughts, that he seemed not to be aware of 
the fact that an intrusion had been made on his privacy. Our 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


107 


hero stood for a moment; but seeing no prospect of a disturb- 
ance of the silence on the part of the ojBicer, he concluded at 
last to convince the General that he was no ghost, which, it is 
said, can be done by speaking first.. 

“General,” said he, “I have reported to you in obedience to 
orders.” 

The latter individual suddenly started up, in seeming sur- 
prise. 

“Ah, indeed,” said the General, speaking as if in a dream. 
“For what purpose?” 

“I am not aware, General, for what purpose. I was simply 
ordered by your adjutant to report to you; and I have 
done so.” 

The officer spoke not for the space of two minutes ; but ex- 
amined the soldier from head to foot with a scrutiny which 
Chesterfield would have considered highly improper in one’s 
ordinary intercourse with society. He appeared to attempt to 
read the very heart and soul of Winston, who, however, stood 
the test without a change of countenance or the movement of 
a muscle. When he had scrutinized the subject to his satis- 
faction, the General again spoke: 

“What is your name, sir?” 

“Winston — Henry Winston.” 

“Winston? Are you related to General Winston, of Ken- 
tucky?” 

“I am, sir; he is an uncle of mine.” 

“Be seated, then, Mr. Winston. I think you will do. I 
am well acquainted with your relative, and I know he is true 
to our cause. I can, therefore, trust you with important 
business.” 

“I hope, sir, no one can doubt my loyalty.” 

“No, I think not. But now to business. At present I 
have none near me who can successfully accomplish a mission 
T have in view — or, rather, none who are willing to undertake 


108 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


it — and I was forced to call on your Colonel, who is a gallant 
officer, and whose judgment I am perfectly willing to risk. 
You belong to the 15th Mississippi ?” 

“Ido, sir.” 

“Well, then, I feel justified in trusting to your keeping 
facts upon which depends the salvation of two armies. I 
must have no half confidences, Mr. Winston, and you must un- 
derstand all my plans in regard to this matter, fully and 
thoroughly. For if you agree to undertake this mission, I 
can commit nothing to writing.” 

“I am perfectly willing to undertake any thing, Gleneral, 
for the good of our cause, which is not beyond my capabilities. 
And I assure you, you need feel no hesitation in intrusting to 
me all the facts and information which would be indispensable 
to the successful achievement of the mission, whatever it may 
be.” 

“I will not conceal from you, Mr. Winston, that the mis- 
sion will probably be fraught with great danger. If you 
should be detected, the consequence would be the loss of your 
life.” 

“0, well. General, if that be all, I do not place such a 
value upon my life that I can not afford to sacrifice it for my 
country, should it become necessary. If I should fall while 
in the faithful discharge of my duty, I can ask no greater 
boon as a soldier.” 

“You speak like a true patriot, Mr. Winston; but, as time 
is pressing, do you think that you can make your way into the 
beleaguered city of Vicksburg?” 

“It will be a difficult undertaking,” replied Henry; “but, 
if you wish it, I can try.” 

“It will be as you say. General Pemberton has got him- 
self into an awful predicament by his disobedience of my 
orders. I instructed him not to go into Vicksburg, if he 
should not beat the enemy back te Port Gibson. By some 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


109 


unaccountable blunders he has managed to sustain two defeats 
in succession. The battle of Baker’s Creek is the greatest 
blunder ever committed on the military chess-board. I fear 
Pemberton has lost his army by it. However, I want you to 
go into Vicksburg and learn what General Pemberton is 
doing, and what he intends to do. Tell him to hold out, if 
possible, until the 7th day of next month, and I will endeavor 
to make a demonstration in his favor. The enemy must be 
attacked in the front and rear, and the army of Pemberton 
must cut its way out. It is a desperate remedy, but I know 
of no other way of extricating him from the difficulty. You 
must attempt to go throughout the Federal army; learn its 
disposition ; in short, find out every thing that can be of any 
possible benefit. Discover the enemy’s weakest points — the 
points least guarded and defended. I shall then make ar- 
rangements in accordance with the report you may bring me. 
It is hardly necessary to remind you that the utmost secrecy 
must be preserved.” 

“Have no fear on that score. General.” 

“I rely implicitly on your devotion to our cause, Mr. Win- 
ston; and I will now acquaint you with some other plans, 
which it will be necessary to communicate to General Pem- 
berton.” 

Here Winston was briefly and concisely put in possession 
of all the facts and plans in relation to the siege of Vicks- 
burg, which may not be interesting to the reader to know. 

After the General had completed his instructions to Win- 
ston, he said: 

“You are certain that you clearly understand me? A mis- 
take on your part may derange all my plans.” 

“In order that I may commit no blunders, I will, with your 
permission, repeat the instructions I have received.” 

“You are right, Mr. Winston. Proceed, sir.” 

Our hero then related, with remarkable accuracy, the sub- . 


110 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


stance of their conversation, besides very shrewdly and mod- 
estly asking several questions, which might yet be taken as 
suggestions, in regard to points upon which the General had 
not fully expressed himself The officer listened with pro- 
found attention; then his face was seen to brighten. 

“I see, Mr. Winston, that you fully comprehend me. You 
have unintentionally suggested plans concerning some move- 
ments upon which I had not entirely made up my mind, but 
which I had thought of adopting. But, by way of digres- 
sion, how does it happen that you are only a private? A 
man of your capacity should hold some position in which his 
talent could be more advantageously employed.” 

“I have never sought office. General, and I shall hold none 
until I prove myself worthy of so high a trust. Besides, I 
think, sir, I can eflfectually serve my country with a musket 
in the ranks, where I am more needed.” 

“Your country, I hope, will reward such patriotism; and 
if at any time you should need assistance in any laudable 
effort for military promotion, feel no hesitation in calling on 
me. But now you must be gone. You must get to Vicks- 
burg as soon as possible. How will you convince General 
Pemberton that you are a messenger from me?” 

“ I have the honor of a personal acquaintance with General 
Pemberton. There will be no difficulty in that respect.” 

“ I am glad to find it so ; for General Pemberton can talk 
the more freely to you in regard to this matter. But I will 
detain you no longer. You ought to start at once,” said 
General Johnston, extending his hand. “So good-bye, and 
may God speed you on this dangerous journey.” Henry 
shook the extended hand, and then left the apartment. 

Winston immediately returned to camp, made all necessary 
preparations, and that very night set out for the besieged city. 
The country through which he traveled had been ravaged by 
the rude hand of a merciless enemy. On all sides, in every 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Ill 


direction, marks of savage devastation presented themselves to 
the eye. Here lay vast plantations, stripped of all defense 
against the invasion of animals, with their growing crops 
choked with weeds and grass. No living animal had been 
left by the defenders of the Union to pasture on the decaying 
wheat-fields. Every horse and mule had been driven away ; 
every cow and hog had been butchered. The charred re- 
mains of beautiful residences appeared in mournful desola- 
tion — the sad monuments of once happy homes. There 
stood, occasionally, a few dwellings, left accidentally by the 
Yankees, but deserted by their frightened owners. No smoke 
ascended curling up from their gloomy looking chimneys; no 
sound to indicate that the place had ever been tenanted by 
human beings broke the dead silence. The gates were broken 
down: the yards were defaced; the fences were burned; in 
short, every thing bore witness to the savage character of 
an enemy, who, feeling his inability to* cope with Confederate 
armies in the field, had turned loose the vilest wretches that 
constitute the connecting link between man and demons to 
rob and plunder defenseless women and children. 

“Surely,” thought Winston, as he surveyed these relics of 
Federal barbarity, “surely God will inflict condign punish- 
ment upon a foe who wages war in this manner. For awhile 
he may lay waste and destroy, but Heaven, in its own good 
time, will bring the offender to justice, and send upon him a 
chastisement terrible in severity, and yet scarcely adequate 
to the atrocity of his crimes. Can it be possible that such 
an enemy will subjugate and triumph over this down-trod- 
den land?” 

The spy, for such Winston had now become, indulging in 
such reflections as these, by daylight the next morning 
reached the last Confederate pickets. Having ridden all 
night, he here halted and rested a short time. When the 
sun was about one hour high, our spy, leaving his horse with 


112 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


the pickets, and having made inquiries in regard to the posi- 
tion of the Yankee pickets, pursued his journey. He deemed 
it most prudent, for reasons known to himself, to make the re- 
mainder of the journey on foot. In a suit of Federal blue, he 
^ooked like any thing else rather than a Confederate soldier. 
Moving on slowly and cautiously, he met with no living mortal 
till near the Big Black River. When within a short distance 
of that stream, he heard, close to the road-side, the military 
term “Halt!” repeated in a foreign voice. Winston obeyed 
without hesitation. In a moment a blue-coat stepped into 
the road. What kind of a soldier he was we will leave the 
reader to judge from the dialogue, which immediately ensued. 

“ It was wal, me honey, ye halted whin I tould ye, or else 
me ould muskit would her stopped ye.” 

“An shure,” said Winston in the same brogue, “it’s not a 
counthryman ye wud be afther shooting is it, an a good 
souljer to boot, who has bin thramping over the counthry 
for three days with me eye on the ribil throopers ?” 

“Show your pass, thin, me frind, and go on.” 

“May be,” said Winston, seeming not to notice the com 
mand, and drawing forth from his pocket a well -filled flask, 
“may be ye wud be afther taking something to drink?” 

“Be gor, it’s mesilf that will do that same; for, by the 
howly St. Pathrick, me throat is as dry as me carthridge-box. 
So pass her over, mo darlint.” 

“She ’s none o’ yer Louisiana rhum,” said our spy, return- 
ing the half-emptied flask to his pocket, “ but the rhaal ould 
Bourbon, Pat.” 

“Nather is me name Pat, shure,” said the Irishman smack- 
ing his lips with great gusto, “ but Tim O’Leary, all the way 
from the ould counthry, in the year forty-nine ; and was n’t it 
me that lived in New Yorck, and that jined the Zouaves to 
fight for the blissid Union? and wasn’t it me that got three 
hundred dollars whin I was musthered into service, an sint it 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


113 


to my swate ould mither, to comfort the good ould craythur 
in her ould age. I say it^s Tim O’Leary that ’s done all that 
same, an is now fighting aghainst the ribils to set the swate 
nager fra, poor soul.” 

“ By me sowl, Tim, ye ’ve a big heart to do all that. An 
now take another dhrink to the memory of swate Ireland an 
the health of yer ould mither,” said Winston, drawing forth 
the fiask. “ It ’s I that loves to threat a counthryman in this 
ribil land. Dhrink, me frind — dhrink confusion to all the 
ribils, an a health to Mr. Lincorn.” 

“ Ye ’re a good, kind sowl, by the howly St. Pathrick ! an 
it ’s not Tim O’Leary that wud be afther refusin to dhrink 
with a counthryman and a thrue souljer of the swate Union,” 
said the Irishman, seizing the proffered fiask. Taking another 
swig he returned it. “Be jabbers, counthryman, ye ’re a soul- 
jer afther me own heart,” continued Tim O’Leary, now grow- 
ing in the humor in which our hero desired to see him. 
“It’s not mesilf that would refuse ye a little favor.” 

“Ye’re the thrue grit, Tim; but I must be afther going. 
But where are the ithers that stand wid ye? Ye are not alone 
by yersilf, shure?” 

“No, indade; the howl company is at the rivher. But 
where are ye goin?” 

“ To my command, shure.” 

“ Show yer paphers, counthryman.” 

“By me sowl, Tim,” said Winston, feeling in his pockets, 
“I hev lost me pass. But ye kin thrust a counthryman, 
shure?” 

“It’s mesilf that has orthers to let no one pass from the 
henemy’s counthry; but since I know you are a thrue souljer, 
ye can go, though you must go rhound the company. So just 
take that path, me darlint; it will take ye down the rivher, 
and ye can paddle across in the ould canoe.” 

“No ither souljers betwane here an Vicksburg?” 

8 


114 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“None but sthragglers; but go on quick, me counthryman; 
yhonder comes the relaife. Go on ; they will think you are 
one of the bhoys of the company.” 

Winston wanted no second invitation to take his departjure, 
but hastily bidding farewell to his new acquaintance of the 
Emerald Isle, darted down the narrow path, which had been 
pointed out, and was soon lost amid the bushes. The path 
wound along among the thick undergrowth for several hun- 
dred yards, and then suddenly turned into the stream, where 
our spy found the “ ould canoe ” mentioned by the Irishman. 
It was but the work of a few moments to disengage it from its 
fastenings, row across the river, and land on the opposite side. 
Thinking he might have use for the boat at some future time, 
and fearing it might be displaced before his return, he dragged 
it out on the bank, and concealed it from view; after which he 
continued his journey. Traveling through a country that 
bore marks of the vindictive nature of the enemy, he met 
with no adventure or incident worthy of record. Toiling on 
with indefatigable energy, under a hot, sultry sun, he at length, 
late in the evening, saw the blue smoke curling up from the 
Federal camp-fires. He now slackened his speed, and moved 
slowly but cautiously on. Presently he perceived the Yankee 
pickets on the road-side. Winston resolved to still play the 
bold game, march up unconcernedly, and rely solely upon 
chance, and the story he should trump up to suit the charac- 
ters on post. So, walking on carelessly, he was soon within 
hailing distance. 

“Halt!” said one of the pickets, when Winston was within 
ten paces of the post. 

“Well, what will you have?” said the spy, carelessly. 

“ Where are you going?” 

“To camp.” 

“What regiment?” 

“108th Illinois,” answered the spy, at a venture. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


115 


“How came you out of the lines?” 

This would have been a difl&cult question for the spy to 
answer, but one of the Yankees extricated him from the diffi- 
culty unintentionally. 

“0, he was detailed with the foragers; let him go.” 

“Where are the wagons?” asked the first interrogator. 

“They are coming,” replied our hero. 

“Were you detailed?” 

“Yes, certainly I was.” 

“ Go ahead then.” 

And “ ahead ” our hero went, glad to have gained access to 
the Yankee army so easily and with so little trouble. 

The office of a spy is both disagreeable and dangerous; for 
detection is certain death, and an ignominious one at that. 
Besides this, the violence done to the conscience must not be 
overlooked. The necessary deviation from the strict line of 
truth which it involves disqualifies a. man of conscientious 
scruples for the position. We think that justice is rarely 
done to this class of soldiers, who frequently furnish informa- 
tion that insures victory to the party for which they may be 
acting. Now, Henry Winston was morally and religiously 
inclined by nature, and when he thought of the capacity in 
which he was endeavoring to serve his country, it was some- 
what revolting to his feelings. But, after a second view of 
the subject, he relieved the qualms of conscience with the re- 
flection that falsehood and deception were practiced by Wash- 
ington and other great military men ; and, since espionage was 
recognized by all parties as indispensable, he concluded it 
would not be wrong to use the means which would insure 
success. So, dismissing the subject from his mind, he resolved 
to stroll through the Federal camp, and answer all questions 
with truth or falsehood, as the emergency should require. Our 
hero could not be entirely ignorant of the fact that he was 
possessed of some qualities indispensable to a successful spy — 


116 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


a total destitutiou of fear iu the presence of danger — a quick 
perception of the idiosyncrasies of the parties with whom he 
might be dealing; so that he knew precisely what course to 
adopt almost as soon as he glanced at his enemy’s physiog- 
nomy and heard the first intonations of his voice. In other 
words, he was a good judge of human nature. Add to this 
great shrewdness and intelligence, and it will be seen that such 
a man as Henry Winston could not be met with every day. 

Our spy walked leisurely through the Yankee encampment 
without molestation, and listened, with apparent unconcern, to 
several conversations in regard to the besieged city. Among 
other things, he heard, with some little surprise, that the Con- 
federates were to surrender the next day. At last, being 
wearied, he sat down, with the intention of waiting till the 
approaeh of darkness should favor his exit from the enemy’s 
camp. He discovered that in front of the city there was a 
strong line of sentinels, and that it would be an extremely 
difficult matter to pass them in daylight. He could further- 
more see distinctly the Confederate flag, not more than three 
hundred yards distant, unfurled, as he thought, in proud 
defiance. His plan was to steal, under cover of night, as 
close as possible to the Federal sentinels, await a favorable 
opportunity, then dash straight through before they could 
recover from their surprise. It was now sundown, and about 
one hour afterward Winston commenced to execute his pur- 
pose. He moved till within fifty yards of the sentinels, whose 
outlines he could see against the horizon, and who were fifteen 
or twenty paces apart; then he crawled on his knees till he 
was within ten paces of one of the guards. 

“Who go dar?” said a negro’s voice. 

Our hero knew that this military interrogation was intended 
for himself: and, being too far off to make a sudden dash, he 
slowly rose from his hands and knees. In an instant he de- 
cided upon a new plan. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 117 

“Who go dar, I say?” exclaimed the negro, in a tone pe- 
culiar to that race of animals alone. 

“Fren,” replied Winston. 

“Frens don’t ginerally come a crawlin on dar knees j but 
vance and gim de sign.” 

“I fell down, nigger, and hurt myself,” replied Winston. 
“Dis chile am all right;” and he pulled his hat down to 
shade his face as much as possible, and limped up to the 
colored sentinel as though he were crippled. 

“Now, den, dar, nigger, dat close enuff; gim de sign.” 

“Gettysburg,” said the spy, in a whisper. 

“What dat? Say im agin.” 

“Jackson.” 

“Uch! 0! dat won’t do; can’t fool dis chile dat way; dat 
ain’t him; guess agin, nigger.” 

“He I he! he! I jes jokin wid you, nigger; I know it; hold 
over your head; I gin im right dis time,” replied Winston, 
throwing his hand behind him. 

The negro poked out his head over his gun to listen. A 
glistening bowie-knife whizzed through the air, and poor 
Sambo fell, with a cloven skull, to rise no more. Our hero 
waited not to see what effect this maneuver would have on 
the negro’s comrades, who were not far off, but bounded away 
like a deer. Several guns were discharged at his retreating 
form, but the balls passed harmlessly over his head. When 
he had gained the distance of one hundred and fifty yards, or 
thereabouts, he slackened his speed, well-knowing that the 
Yankees would not dare to follow, and thinking it dangerous 
to advance too rapidly on the Confederates. He was right, 
for in a moinent afterward he heard the usual military 
challenge. 

“Who goes there? Halt!” 

Winston stopped. 

“Who are you?” said he. 


118 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“ Confederate,” was the reply. “ Who are you?” 

“ A friend.” 

“Advance, friend, and give the countersign.” 

“I have no countersign,” said the spy, going up. “I, 
therefore, surrender.” 

“ What are you — a deserter?” 

“ No; but if you are a Confederate, take me at once to the 
officer in command. I have a communication- of importance 
to make.” 

The sentinel clapped his hands together twice, and soon 
afterward a sergeant made his appearance. 

“Sergeant,” said the sentinel, “ here is a prisoner.” 

“ How did you happen to capture him?” asked the sergeant. 

“He came up voluntarily and surrendered. He says he 
has a communication of importance to make.” 

“And what may that be?” continued the sergeant, address- 
ing himself to Winston. 

“I will make it known only to the proper officer; and I 
ask you to take me, as soon as possible, to an officer.” 

“I have very little confidence in Yankee ‘communications 
of importance.’ But, however, come ahead; I will take you 
to our Colonel, who is close by.” 

They accordingly moved but a short distance, when the ser- 
geant said, “That is the Colonel,” at the same time pointing to 
a tree under which reclined an officer dressed in Confederate 
uniform. Had there been sufficient light, Winston would 
have beheld a large, tall form, which combined all the ele- 
ments of a fine-looking soldier. The form was surmounted 
by a head which phrenologists would place in the first class. 
A large, mild blue eye beamed under a high, bmad forehead, 
that indicated unusual intelligence. Thin light hair hung 
almost to the shoulders. Upon the whole, he was, without 
doubt, the finest-looking officer in Boring’s division. It was 
the brave, magnanimous Colonel Drake, of the 33d Regiment 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


119 


of Mississippi Volunteers. Every soldier in the 33d Missis- 
sippi will shed a tear to the memory of the gallant Colonel 
Drake who fell upon the bloody hills of Georgia, lamented by 
every soldier in the brigade to which he belonged. He died 
as firm a soldier, as true a patriot, as perfect a gentleman as 
ever drew a sword in defense of the unfortunate Confederacy. 
Rest, brave soldier! rest in peace with the holy martyrs of 
liberty, whose memories will be hallowed by the tears of fifty, 
yea, a hundred and fifty generations I 

“Colonel,” said Winston, approaching, “I wish to see Gen- 
eral Pemberton immediately, upon busine.ss of importance.” 

“ That is a strange request to bring to me,” replied Colonel 
Drake. “ Who are you? and what is your business ?” 

“You must excuse me, Colonel, I have not time now; 
neither am I at liberty to make known any part of my busi- 
ness except to General Pemberton in person.” 

“Well, why do you not go on to General Pemberton? 
What do you come to me for?” 

“ I surrendered to your men, sir, and am in arrest.” 

“Are you a Yankee? ” 

“No, sir, I am not.” 

“You talk quite strangely. What are you, anyhow, and 
where do you come from?” 

“ I am the bearer of dispatches from General J ohnston, and 
am from Canton.” 

“How am I to know you are a messenger from General 
Johnston? This may be some Yankee trick, for all I know.” 

“You do not know who I am. Colonel, nor have I time to 
tell you. I only ask you to send me under guard to Gen- 
eral Pemberton.” 

“0, very well; I can do that. Here, Sergeant Cope, send 
a file of supernumeraries with this courier to General Pember- 
ton’s head-quarters.” 

It was more than a mile to the General’s quarters, and our 


120 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


trio moved on through the beleagured city, which slumbered 
in silence, darkness, and gloom. After the lapse of three 
quarters of an hour, they reached the office of General Pem- 
berton. The General was walking up and down the floor, 
while three or four clerks were busily engaged writing. The 
spy approached with the familiarity justified by previous 
acquaintance, but seeing that he was not recognized, it was 
necessary to make himself known. 

“I see. General Pemberton, you have forgotten me. ’ 

“Henry Winston, I declare!” exclaimed the officer, after 
looking closely into his face. “ My dear fellow, I am glad to 
see you. I have inquired after you frequently since the war 
commenced, but have never been able to find where you were. 
I expected to hear of you as a distinguished officer in some 
part of the army. But what in the world are you doing in 
this garb? You are no Yankee?” 

“No, General, very far from it. I assumed this character 
to make ray way through the Yankee army. I am from 
General Johnston, and as I am in haste to accomplish my 
mission, if you will see that we are alone for a few moments, 
I will deliver to you my communication, which is of some 
importance.” 

“Come into my private room, then,” said General Pemberton, 
opening an adjoining door, and locking it after entering. 

“ I fear, Henry,” continued General Pemberton, taking a 
seat, and offering one to the spy, “your communication, if con- 
cerning the unfortunate city, is too late, unless it should be 
something in the form of a miracle.” 

“ Is it true, then. General Pemberton, that the city is about 
to capitulate? I heard such a report to-night in the Federal 
camp, but did not consider it reliable; and I have hastened on 
to lay before you General Johnston’s plans for your rescue.” 

“As I said, Henry,” replied the officer, with a mourn- 
ful smile, “unless the plan of General Johnston should be 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


121 


miraculous, and something which he can accomplish without 
my aid, or at least with very little assistance on my part, 
nothing can be done for my relief To make a long story 
short, I am compelled, by the force of circumstances, to sur- 
render the whole army to-morrow morning.” 

“ Is it possible? Can you not hold out three or four days 
longer? On the 7th day of this month General Johnston 
proposes to make a move for the salvation of your army; and 
I am instructed to say to you to hold out till then, if possible.” 

“ It is certainly very considerate,” said General Pemberton, 
in a bitter tone of voice ; “ it is certainly very considerate in 
General Johnston to postpone this proposition until my noble 
troops are all half famished; and ten or fifteen thousand of 
them are languishing on beds of sickness, prostrated by over- 
exertion, exposure, and want of food. Several weeks ago an 
effort could have been made, which might not only have re- 
lieved this place, but might have entirely defeated the enemy. 
Our artillery has been booming for days in the very ears of 
General' Johnston, thus giving him to understand that we 
would hold out to the last. And now, when our commissary 
is absolutely destitute, and our faithful soldiers are actually 
reeling in the intrenchments, here comes the extraordinary 
proposition to hold out till the 7 th, when it is utterly imprac- 
ticable and impossible. What has General Johnston been 
doing for the last forty-eight days but lying around Canton 
or Jackson, with an idle army? He ought to have made this 
proposition at least a month ago. It is too late now.” 

“I am very sorry. General, you are reduced to the necessity 
of a capitulation; for, with the aid of General Johnston, in four 
days your army might cut its way out. ’ 

“Further resistance would be a useless effusion of blood, 
and I do not feel at liberty to sacrifice my wearied men, in 
their present condition, even if I had the subsistence neces- 
sary to the prolongation of the siege. No; there is no. help 


122 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


for it; and, as much as I regret it, I am forced to sur- 
render to-morrow morning. Indeed, the articles are already 
drawn up and signed, and the enemy will take possession 
to-morrow.” 

“ Such being the case, it is useless to lay before you any of 
General Johnston’s plans, but I trust, General Pemberton, our 
friendship is still such that I can ask you a question which 
may be impertinent, considering the difference of our situa- 
tions, by reason of military rank?” 

‘‘ Why, my dear fellow, I am surprised at your insinuation. 
You . should, I think, be sufficiently acquainted with me to 
know that I am not one to be affected in such a manner by 
mere artificial distinctions of rank. If that were the case, I 
should have resigned my position long ago ; so talk as freely 
and familiarly to me as you did when I visited at your father’s 
house.” 

“Well, then. General, what will the country think of this 
transaction?” 

“The natural delicacy of your feelings, Henry,' I see, 
would not permit you to ask a question more to the point. 
Why did you not ask me what the opinion of the world will 
be in regard to my selling this city? I am aware that such a 
report has already been whispered about among the troops. 
Of course it will be generally circulated. I would scorn to 
notice the vile and absurd slander. I can talk plainly to you, 
.^Henry, and I tell you I feel a clear conscience in regard to 
this matter. I have done all that mortal man could do, and 
I can not stop to clear up the idle reports which may be cir- 
mlated concerning me by ^street generals' You know it is 
human nature to err, and I confess I have committed some 
great mistakes. I have, however, been grievously disap- 
pointed in some of my calculations, and one of them was the 
expected co-operation of General Johnston. As matters have 
turned out, I suppose I am justly censured for not abandon- 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


123 


ing this position at first. I could not for a moment imagine 
that the government would be willing to give up such an 
important point without a single struggle to hold it. I con- 
ceive that I have acted in accordance with the views of the 
President, for I know he was in favor of defending Vicks- 
burg at all hazards. Now, Henry, I say to you, in confi- 
dence though, what I would not say to any other man — the 
surrender of this city is the downfall of the Confederacy. 
Out cause is lost. You may be surprised, but the Confederacy 
will be overthrown. I knew the importance of Vicksburg, 
and therefore I have risked. every thing to hold it. Whether 
our misfortunes resulting from this movement are due to my 
blunders or General Johnston’s slow motions, posterity must 
be the judge. With the army under my command, and 
another to harass the enemy in the rear, he might have been 
seriously crippled, if not totally defeated. But nothing of 
the sort has been attempted. On the contrary, I have been 
left alone, cooped up within narrow limits, to extricate myself 
in the best manner I could from my perilous situation. The 
world will soon know the result. I am aware that I will be 
censured by the public. Success, with them, is the test of 
merit. I care not what the qualifications of a man may be, 
if he meet with unavoidable reverses, he will be condemned 
by the public. On the other hand, if a commander achieve 
victories that are the result of accident rather than his own 
judgment, prudence, and foresight, he will be lauded as a » 
great chieftain. Well, well,” continued the General, “this 
may be all right, and if success is to be the standard, I know 
I will be blamed by the people. But, if I am to be censured 
simply because I have been unfortunate in the defense of this 
city, I will submit to the decision without a murmur. I am 
satisfied, though, if I had been successful, my name would 
have been connected with any thing else than the cry of 
‘traitor,’ and all that kind of thing. I should think my 


124 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


loyalty by this time to be beyond all dispute and contro- 
versy.” 

“ It affords me pleasure, General Pemberton, to say to you 
that your devotion to our cause is questioned only by people 
who are blessed with profound ignorance in relation to mili- 
tary matters.” 

“ I know the public will be disposed to grumble, Henry, 
and to shift the whole responsibility of this disaster to my 
shoulders. Well, I can bear it. But one thing is certain ; I 
will no longer hold a high position in the army with the sense- 
less clamor of the public against me. I could not do myself 
nor our cause justice. I shall resign the position I now oc- 
cupy, and take any other to which I may be assigned. And 
if that will not do, I will shoulder a musket and go into the 
ranks where my country can be effectually served, and myself 
escape, for awhile at least, the unjust aspersions of an exacting 
people. I am not one who would feel his dignity lowered by 
buckling on a knapsack, and marching with my countrymen 
in the capacity of a private instead of a general. Although 
I believe our cause is now hopeless, I will stick to it as long 
as any other man will.” 

“I hope. General, the public will not be so unjust as you 
seem disposed to believe.” 

“All I ask, Henry, is justice. But I know the people too 
well to suppose that this capitulation will be viewed with any 
* degree of just allowance. I can already see that I will be the 
only party blamed in this unfortunate affair. I have, how- 
ever, the consolation to know that I have faithfully discharged 
my duty. It is nevertheless somewhat mortifying to my feel- 
ings to think that my name is coupled with that of Arnold, 
when I have labored for the preservation of this point with all 
the energy of my nature. My efforts in procuring subsistence 
have not been seconded ; and it will be found, on investigation, 
that others beside myself deserve a portion of the people’s 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


125 


reproaches. But I will be forced to bear it all. The army, 
in the eyes of the public, will be a host of martyrs, while 
their commander will be a Benedict Arnold. The anxiety 
and the solicitude which have caused me to pass so many 
sleepless nights will never be taken into the account. While 
these very people, who are now so lustily crying out ‘down 
with the traitor,’ were at home, in peace and quiet, and while 
they supposed me to be taking my ease, I have been watching, 
have been reflecting upon the best means for the preservation 
of the state, till my very nerves trembled with fatigue and 
weariness. Many and many a night, when our brave soldiers 
were slumbering in tranquillity, I was lying awake, my mind 
troubled and perplexed with cares of which no one was even 
dreaming. And all the reward I receive is the suspicion, and 
not only the suspicion, but the cry in my very ears of dis- 
loyalty to a country upon whose altar I would as willingly 
sacrifice my life as the best loved and most unsuspected com- 
mander in the Confederate army. I will even go into the 
ranks, but not with the intention of proving my loyalty to 
this ungrateful people, but from a sense of duty. If I fall, 
though I have no reason to believe that a single tear will be 
shed for my fate, yet my blood will not be spilled in vain, and 
I will reap the true patriot’s reward years hence, when another 
generation can appreciate my motives and my labors. Should 
I be so fortunate as to survive this cruel conflict, and live to 
see peace return, I ask no greater privilege than to appear as 
a private covered with the blood and dust of battles, and 
receive a discharge from the service of a country for whose 
independence T am willing to sacrifice all and every thing.” 

“I am surprised, General, that you are so despondent as to 
our final success.” 

“I take a practical view of a plain subject, Henry. I 
would not talk thus freely to every body. I do not wish to 
discourage any one. But I say to you, as a friend, it is my 


126 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


candid opinion that before the winter of 1865 the downfall of 
the Confederacy will be a past event. We will now be gradu- 
ally driven in on all sides toward Richmond, and the last battle 
will be fought for the capital. When that falls into the 
enemy’s hands, we can not hold out twenty -four hours longer. 
It is all sheer nonsense to talk about converting the army into 
bands of guerrillas. You will see in two years from to-day 
that my prediction is correct.” 

General Pemberton then changed the topic, and continued 
to talk to Winston for half an hour longer, but upon subjects 
which can be of no interest to the reader. At the expiration 
of that length of time Henry took his departure. It was 
with a feeling of sadness that he wended his way to the quar- 
ters of a friend along the silent streets of the doomed city. 

“Proud city of the hills 1” (thought our hero) “nobly hast 
thou withstood the hurtling missiles of death that have laid 
low so many of thy brave defenders! Once thy gallant sons, 
with stout hearts and strong arms, hurled back the wrathful 
foe from thy defiant forts. Once the loud shouts of blood- 
bought victory ascended to the skies from the lofty heights of 
thy can non -scathed hills. Troy stood ten years with the 
Greeks thundering under her high battlements. And yet no 
Trojan horse, concealing lurking enemies, rests amid thy de- 
serted streets. No traitor’s foot pollutes thy sacred soil, and 
desecrates the spot crimsoned with the blood of thy fallen 
heroes. Thy soldiers are true, thy general is true, but still 
relentless fate has decreed that thou shalt be ravaged and torn 
by the vandal hand. Starvation walks learv and gaunt amid 
the faithful vindicators of thy honor, and soon the hated foe 
will clamber up thy steep hills, and his huzza will echo among 
thy sorrowful dwellings. Though such is thy inevitable doom, 
yet the heroic deeds achieved in thy defense will equal the 
proud and time-honored glories of ancient Rome!” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


127 


CHAPTER X. 

“Onward they march embattled, to the sound 
Of martial harmony; fifes, cornets, drums. 

That rouse the sleepy soul to arms, and bold 
Heroic deeds.” 

The following morning a brilliant sun peered above the 
high hills of Vicksburg, driving away the straggling remains 
of the previous night that loitered in the train of the sable 
goddess. It was a day rendered sacred and illustrious in the 
annals of American history by the associations with which it 
is connected. Looking far back into the dim mists of the 
past, the “mind’s eye” can see a small band of patriot heroes 
that declared a nation free and independent. Ever since the 
eventful period of ’76, this day has been an epoch in our his- 
tory. With feelings of glowing patriotism the people have 
celebrated it with religious fervor, pouring out libations in 
honor of the canonized heroes who have handed down to them 
the rich legacy of civil and religious liberty. For nearly a 
century, men, women, and children, dressed in their best suits, 
have assembled annually on this sacred anniversary, under the 
wide-spreading boughs of oaks, venerable with age, to rejoice 
over the great boon of freedom, purchased with the gore of 
a seven years’ conflict. Long will be remembered the many 
interesting scenes which have transpired on this never-to-be- 
forgotten day of jubilee — the foot-races, the fights, and other 
innocent amusements characteristic of the American people. 

The day bid fair to be clear and sultry. The Federals 
commenced early in the morning to make preparations for 
entering the fallen city in triumph. Ofl&cers, bedecked in the 
gay trappings of Yankee uniform, went dashing on spirited 


128 


THE CONFEDERATE SPV 


chargers, that pawed the earth in the pride of their strength. 
Regiment after regiment was drawn up, with gleaming arms, 
that reflected the rays of the morning sun in the eyes of the 
gloomy Confederates. The Mississippi River teemed with 
dark-looking gun -boats, from whose ugly tops thousands of 
flags, displaying the “stars and stripes,” floated in the summer 
breeze. Soon the vast column on land was put in motion, and 
marched into the city with banners streaming in the wind, 
with drums and fifes playing “Yankee Doodle,” and other 
airs peculiar to the Yankee nation. The Confederate soldiers 
looked on this exhibition with mingled emotions of silent rage 
and sorrow. No one viewed it with more profound feelings 
of regret and vexation than Henry Winston. As soon as 
the head of the column had appeared within the streets, he 
stepped out, fully armed and equipped as a Yankee soldier, 
and moved along in the reverse direction * to that which the 
jubilant enemy was going, without exciting any suspicion. He 
had not moved a great distance, however, before he recognized 
a personage whose acquaintance he did not care to acknowl- 
edge on the piesent occasion. He furthermore saw a move- 
ment of this personage which he did not exactly approve; so 
he suddenly turned from the road, and was in a moment 
hidden among the high hills of Vicksburg. When he had 
reached what he thought was a safe distance, he at length 
paused on the top of a lofty height that commanded a view 
of the enemy’s movements for some distance, along a straight 
sloping piece of road. He seated himself upon a cannon, 
which had been abandoned, owing apparently to derangement 
of some of its machinery, and leisurely surveyed the moving 
body that wound among the hills like a long, black snake. 
Presently a deafening peal of artillery rent the air, shook the 
earth, and then rolled down the river. 

“Vile rabble!” exclaimed Winston, starting up, “to rejoice 
over what you should consider disgrace! Ye desecrate the 


THE CONFEDERATE SPF. 


129 


4th of July by refusing others the rights our forefathers won 
through a successful rebellion. Ye are now celebrating a day 
upon which was declared the very principle this fallen city 
was attempting to defend. Your proud flags stream not, as 
ye think, over the tottering hydra of rebellion, but over the 
lacerated form of departing liberty. Inconsistent crew! an 
evil fate now permits you to triumph over a down-trodden foe; 
but, if there be justice in heaven, you will sooner or later 
receive your merited deserts. Move on, savage herd! your 
punishment will probably come like a thief in the night, when 
you least expect it.” 

Another earth-shaking boom reverberated from hill to hill, 
followed by a loud cheer ascending from thousands of Yankee 
throats. 

“I would,” continued the spy, somewhat enraged, “this 
good piece were charged with grape or canister; I would fire a 
salute that some of you would long remember. It may be 
that some ammunition has been left with this abandoned gun,” 
he said, dismounting and going to a caisson which had also 
been injured. “Thanks be to heaven! here are three or four 
charges in this box ; and now I will make my first experiment 
in artillery practice. If this piece will work, I doubt not the 
Yankees will have reason to curse this untimely display of my 
marksmanship. As good luck will have it, the gun can be 
used, and I will proceed to load it in the most approved style 
with a shell,” said he, ramming down a twenty-four pound 
missile of that description. “One good thing is,” continued 
the spy, deliberately directing the piece, “ I have a large tar- 
get and can scarcely miss the whole mark. Just so I give my 
gun sufficient elevation, it will be so unceremonious as to lay 
somebody in the dust. Now, then, I think that will do. 
May God have mercy on all whom this shot may send into 
his presence!” At that moment another peal burst from the 
Federal artillery, followed by cheers. “Now, my Yankee 

9 


130 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


friends, here is the response from Dixie. In the name of God 
and liberty, jirer he exclaimed, and jerked the string attached 
to the fuse. 

The spectators in the distance, whose eyes happened to be 
turned in that direction, saw a huge volume of smoke roll up 
from the top of the hill on which Winston was performing 
this fool-hardy exploit. In an instant afterward something 
was heard howling and whizzing through the air, making a 
noise similar somewhat to the tones of a hollow top. On 
and on it went, with unerring certainty, straight to the 
slowly-moving column, which, striking about middle ways, it 
burst with an explosion and a power that it at once checked 
the astonished enemy’s progress. Winston, standing upon his 
gun, saw this; he knew that the shot had taken effect, and he 
was satisfied with his performance. He discovered, further- 
more, a small detachment of Federals from the main body 
making their way rapidly to his position. Waving his hat, 
and with daring recklessness giving three cheers for the young 
Confederacy, he darted down the hill in the opposite direction, 
and was in a moment lost from view. 

The reader’s attention must now be called to a conversation 
which was going on in the Federal column, half an hour pre- 
vious to the tragical exploit of Henry Winston. A colonel 
rode leisurely at the head of his regiment, and by his side 
was another officer of inferior grade. These two, with even 
this brief description, our reader has already recognized as 
Colonel James Burrell and Captain Walter Hallam. 

“Colonel,” said the latter individual, “I had occasion this 
morning to be at the head of the column when it entered the 
city, and I ’ll bet you a treat you can not guess whom I saw.” 

“Done, sir, done!” replied Colonel Burrell. 

“Who, then?” 

“Why, Yankees, of course,” was the laughing response. 

“ True; but I saw more rebels than Yankees — and especially 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


131 


one who is a rebel indeed — one whom I have met before, 
under aggravating circumstances — and one who has given 
cause of offense to us both; for it was no other than that d — d 
villain and traitor, Winston.” 

“Well, there is nothing remarkable in that fact; you would 
be as liable to see him as any other rebel.” 

“No, it is not wonderful that I should see him, but it is a 
little strange that I should see him armed and dressed in 
Federal uniform, and moving along the line of our march in 
a contrary direction with perfect freedom.” 

“Why did n’t you have him arrested. Captain?” 

“I was on the point of doing that very thing, when the 
d — d rascal dodged in a turn of the road and could be seen 
no more. I make no doubt that this d — d rebel is and has 
been a spy in our army.” 

“The evidences of his guilt are not so palpable to me as 
they appear to you. Captain Hallam. The probability is, the 
man has dressed himself in our uniform, and has thus made 
his escape. I have not the same cause, perhaps, for prejudice, 
Walter, that you have, which induces you to place the most 
uncharitable construction possible upon all his actions.” 

“ Do not call it prejudice. Colonel; you may call it hate, if 
it so please you. I look upon him as a murderer^ and the 
murderer of my own sister at that. I have never explained 
this to you, but some time, when we have leisure, I will show 
you the proof You will then see whether I have just cause 
for ‘prejudice,’ as you call it.” 

“Something of this have I heard from Emily, but I could 
find no sufiicient grounds to justify the grave accusation of 
murder. His face, I am sure, is indicative of any thing else 
rather than such a character. Say what you may, he is un- 
doubtedly a brave man. By the gods! he faced you and 
your squad gallantly on the field of Corinth, when you had 
him bound, and your primed guns pointing at his breast. I 


132 


THE CONFEDERiiTE SPY. 


never saw a finer exhibition of cooi bravery in my life. By 
G — d, Hallam, it makes me mad, even now, to think you 
would have murdered such a man in cold blood, without 
giving him a single chance for his life.” 

“I had good reason for so doing, Colonel. I once intended 
to challenge the fellow to fight a duel, but he proved himself 
to be any thing but a gentleman, and after the repetition of 
the offense at the battle of Corinth, I did not consider him 
worthy of such a privilege.”^ 

“What offense was that, pray?” 

“ Why, he struck me as he did at Corinth, but did not stay 
to face consequences. He took to his heels, giving me no 
opportunity to resent the insult.” 

“ I never knew before that you had had a difB^culty with 
Winston previously to the battle of Corinth.” 

“We never had much of a difficulty. Your brave man 
acted the coward as completely as you ever saw.” 

“When did that happen?” 

“ The day before he ingloriously fied from Kentucky. I 
saw him returning from your father’s with the speed of a mad- 
man, and I thought it a suitable occasion to ask an explana- 
tion of his conduct in regard to my sister. But, sir, instead 
of returning a civil reply to my question, he struck me unex- 
pectedly, as I told you, and then fied. That night, you know, 
he left for ‘ parts unknown.’ ” 

“ His conduct, in some respects, I own, is incomprehensible ; 
but I am not disposed to condemn him without hearing his 
statement concerning the matter. He may have had very 
good grounds for acting as he did.” 

“ I do not care now any thing about his statement, when 
I have proof positive of his villainy; and I should think. 
Colonel, when you consider how he trifled with cousin 
Emily” 

“Hold, Captain Hallam!” cried Colonel Burrell, “we will 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


133 


waive that subject, if you please. I care not for my sister s 
name to be mixed up with your quarrels. The man is nothing 
to me or my sister either. Emily, I trust, has forgotten this 
school-girl’s affair to which you allude. Though at present 
I can not reconcile his' actions with General Winston’s state- 
ment, I am nevertheless disposed to believe his nephew was 
laboring under a mistake of some character. Whether he 
was or not, it is a matter of indifference to me and to my 
sister. Even if he were guilty of faithlessness, I could not 
consider it a sufficient crime to justify me in taking his life 
in cold blood.” 

“I think. Colonel, you are disposed to be rather severe on 
me. I had reasons, which I see you can not or will not 
appreciate, but which I considered a sufficient justification of 
my conduct. Under similar circumstances, I think I should 
act just as I did at Corinth.” 

“ By the eternal G — d ! if I should see you at it, I would 
be tempted to blow your brains out.” 

“It appears to me, sir,” said Walter, somewhat nettled, 
“you are wonderfully taken with this d — d rebel.” 

“No more so than with any other brave man. I never 
could and never will see a brave man imposed on, even though 
he be a rebel and an enemy. If there is any quality I ad- 
mire, it is true bravery, and this fellow Winston seems to 
possess it in an eminent degree. I never saw a more god- 
like look in mortal man than at Corinth, when he stood sur- 
rounded by enemies bent upon taking his life. By G — d, 
Walter, if you had murdered him, I believe I would have in- 
voluntarily chopped your head off.” 

“I declare, sir,” replied Hallam, with a smile, “you are 
complimentary. I venture to say, though, the man who per- 
forms the exploit you have mentioned would do well to see 
that his own cranium is set firm to his shoulders. There are 
very few men who would, without some little resistance, part 


134 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


with the important member which you can so easily sever 
from the body.” 

It was at this moment the shell sent by Henry Winston 
exploded in the midst of the regiment commanded by Colonel 
Burrell. It fell not ten feet from the Colonel himself, and 
one piece carried away his right foot. Hallam escaped 
unhurt, but a Dutchman behind him was killed instantly. 
It was the man who had taken the spy’s watch! Thus it 
will be seen that even in this world God frequently metes 
out just punishment for crime. 

** Aye, justice, who evades her? 

Her scales reach every heart j 
The action and the motive, 

She weigheth each apart; 

And who swerve from right or truth 
Can 'scape her penalty 1” 

When Walter Hallam picked up his hat which had been 
knocked off, he saw lying by it the watch which had been 
jarred from the Dutchman’s pocket. On examining it, 
he discovered engraved in plain letters on the case the 
name of Henry S. Winston. 

“That d — d rebel’s fate seems strangely connected with 
mine,” thought Walter. “I will keep the watch, however, in 
spite of h — 11. I would not be at all surprised if he fired the 
cannon which threw this shell.” Happening at that moment 
to look in the direction whence the missile had come, he 
descried a man, mounted on a gun, waving his hat in triumph. 
“I ’ll bet that is the d — d rascal now. Boys!” cried Hallam, 
pointing to the hill upon which Winston was stationed, “ bring 
that man here, dead or alive.” 

But Winston, as we have already seen, saw the movement, 
and thinking “discretion the better part of valor,” beat a 
hasty but orderly retreat. Leaving the Yankees inconsistently 
rejoicing over the two events, the rise and the fall of liberty., 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


135 


and thanking God, in their foolish hearts, that the temple of 
freedom was erected that they might have the exquisite pleas- 
ure of tearing it down, we will follow the motions of our spy. 

Winston made his way out with very little difficulty, as the 
enemy was careless and good-humored after the surrender of 
the city. Proceeding leisurely, he reached, late that evening, 
the Confederate pickets with whom he had left his horse. 
With these our hero remained during the greater part of the 
night, and early the next morning set out for the village of 
Canton, to report the result of his mission to General John- 
ston. In the afternoon he discovered clouds of dust rising 
high in the air. In the course of half an hour he met 
Major-General Loring, who was in command of the troops, 
and was then moving near to the Big Black, ready to make 
a demonstration for the relief of Vicksburg when General 
Johnston should give the order. Winston, who was still in 
the garb of a Yankee, was of course halted. 

“Where are you going?” asked General Loring. 

“I am on my way to Canton, to report to General John- 
ston.” ^ 

General — H — 11! what has a Yankee to do with General 
Johnston?” 

“I am no Yankee, sir.” 

“What are you, then?” 

“I am a Confederate soldier, sir, and belong to the 15th 
Mississippi.” 

“Robertson,” said General Loring, “ride back and tell 
Colonel Farrell to come to the front. “Where are you from 
now?” asked General Loring. 

“ Directly from General Pemberton, sir.” 

“Been into Vicksburg, have you?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“When?” 

“ I left yesterday morning.” 


136 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


•‘What is Pemberton doing?” 

“Not to detain you unnecessarily, I will answer briefly 
He surrendered yesterday morning, and the enemy was enter- 
ing the city when I left.” 

“The h — 11 he did ! On the 4th of July?” 

“Yes, sir; it could not be avoided, I suppose.” 

By this time Colonel Farrell had made his appearance. 

“Colonel Farrell,” asked Oeneral Loring, “do you know 
this man?” 

“Yes, sir; he belongs to my regiment.” 

“What he says may be believed?” 

“Yes, sir; I would as soon doubt the Grospel as Winston’s 
word.” 

“Is he under orders from Greneral Johnston?” 

“ He is, sir.” 

“Well, then,” said General Loring, turning to the spy, 
“ you had better report to General J ohnston as soon as possi- 
ble. Tell him I will halt the troops until I receive further 
orders.” 

The spy was then permitted to pursue his journey without 
molestation. By hard riding, he reached Canton that night 
at ten o’clock. He found General Johnston alone in his 
office, almost in the same position in which he had left him. 
Henry again had to make the officer aware of his presence. 

“I am ready to report. General Johnston.” 

“Ah, Mr. Winston,” said the General, after a moment, “I 
am indeed glad to see you. I hope you have plenty of 
news?” 

“Yes, sir; such as it is.” 

“I hope you were successful, and have seen Pemberton?” 

“ I have, sir, but he was a prisoner in twelve hours after- 
ward?” 

“What! You do not mean that he has surrendered?” 

“It is unfortunately the case.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


137 


“When did this take place?” 

“Yesterday, the 4th.” 

“On the 4th! I am sorry for that.” 

“It is to be regretted, but General Pemberton did not 
think he could hold out another hour. I saw him on the 
night of the 3d, but the articles of capitulation were already 
signed.” 

“ He ought never to have gone into the place. I gave him 
plain orders, which he could not misunderstand, not to let the 
enemy get him hemmed in. He is guilty of a willful disobe- 
dience of orders, and ought to be cashiered.” 

“General Pemberton is very much mortified at the result 
of his effort to discharge what he thought was his duty. As 
he is a particular friend of mine, I am sorry to see that his 
superiors have found room for censure, llis feelings are also 
very much hurt at a report, circulated in Vicksburg, that he 
had sold the city for two millions of dollars.” 

“That is all nonsense,” replied General Johnston. “Pem- 
berton is as true to the cause as I or any other man can be. 
No thinking man will believe any such report. But I must 
blame him for disobedience of positive orders.” 

“General Pemberton,” answered the spy, “intends to resign 
as soon as he can, and I hope, therefore, the people will not 
bear down too hard upon a true patriot, who is already deeply 
mortified by his ill success.” 

“I do not know what will be done; but changing the sub- 
ject, I must compliment you for the handsome manner in 
which you have acquitted yourself Few men could have 
done what you have. You must have had considerable diffi- 
culty in going into and coming out of the city?” 

Winston here briefly related all the circumstances of his 
journey, with which the General was highly entertained; 

“I have a notion, Mr. Winston,” said the General, after the 
spy’s summary narrative was concluded, “to detail you as a 


138 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


regular spy. I need a good spy very much now, and I think 
you are the very man. What say you?” 

“It is a dangerous and unpleasant office, General; but, 
nevertheless, I always try to do what my officers require. If 
you think I can serve my country best in that capacity, I will 
undertake it.” 

“Very well; I will write out your detail myself. I want 
you to start as soon as you can.” 

The General then wrote the necessary paper, and gave it to 
the spy. 

“What instructions, General?” 

“I do not wish to trammel your actions with instructions 
I leave all to your judgment. Report to no one but me.” 

Henry, after some further conversation in regard to his new 
duties, took his leave. 

General Johnston could not, as will be seen, have selected 
a more suitable person for the office. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


139 


CHAPTER XI. 


“ Oft what seems 

A trifle, a mere nothing by itself, 

In some nice situation turns the scale 
Of fate, and rules the most important actions.” 

Leaving the village of Canton, Henry Winston passed 
through Panola County, Mississippi, en route for Memphis, 
Tenn. For very obvious reasons, he could not use a pass from 
the Confederate authorities, in order to get beyond the “lines.” 
He chose, therefore, to go in the character of a deserter. It 
would have been rather dangerous for our spy to have made 
himself and his object known to Confederate soldiers, even on 
post, who might probably, in less than twenty-four hours, be- 
come deserters themselves. To meet such persons afterward, 
in the city of Memphis, would have subjected him to extreme 
inconvenience, if not danger. He easily avoided the Confed- 
erate pickets by the directions of those known under the 
name of hlochaders. All of the counties within fifty or sixty 
miles of Memphis were guilty of a violation of the Confeder- 
ate law against “running the blockade.” Having been aban- 
doned pretty much to the tender mercies of the Yankees, 
many of our citizens were forced to trade with the enemy for 
the necessaries of life. Cotton was smuggled through the 
lines by these blockaders, who, eschewing the highway, knew 
all the by-ways and hog-paths between Panola and Memphis. 
This contraband trade was conducted mostly by women — deli- 
cate ladies, who, although trained to ride in carriages and 
buggies, did not now mind mounting a cotton bale on an 
ox-wagon, and traveling by night through lonesome swamps, 
and camping out by day in wild thickets infested with robbers, 


140 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


until they could reach the great metropolis of southern degra- 
dation. Excuse them, kind reader, for all these risks and dan- 
gers were undergone for husbands^ brothers, or fathers in the 
Confederate army, who were barefoot and hatless. It may be 
an interesting question to decide who did the most injury, 
these innocent women, impelled by pure love and patriotism, 
or the large majority of the men detailed by the Confederate 
Government to put down the trade — men who would assist 
the blockaders for five dollars in Federal money. But we 
will waive the discussion of the subject, and return to our 
spy, who, occasionally traveling with the blockaders, was soon 
within the military jurisdiction of the United States. 

Bid you ever think, reader, upon what trivial circum- 
stances, considered within themselves, great events in human 
life frequently depend, or how one event affects another, with 
which it seems to have no apparent connection? How one 
single moment of time can change the whole course of a 
man’s destiny; and how this change affects others, with whom 
his relations are distant and slight? 

‘‘There is a tide in the affairs of men, 

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; 

Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
Is bound in shallows and miseries." 

Probably all the great and prominent events in an indi- 
vidual’s life depend upon the gaining or losing of but a few 
seconds. If the origin of all the accidents which happen in 
this sublunary world were traced out, they would be found to 
turn upon “a trifle, a mere nothing by itself.” 

We have thrown out these disconnected, rambling thoughts, 
reader, as a sort of an explanatory preliminary to a circum- 
stance which, without a preface, may appear to be an irrele- 
vant incident. It, however, had an influence over the life of 
more persons than one, as will be seen in the progress of this 
history. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


141 


One evening, when within a short distance of Memphis, as 
Winston was slowly pursuing his journey along a path which 
was about half a mile from the public road, he heard a con- 
fused muttering of voices. His first conclusion was that the 
path he was traveling led to the head-quarters of a gang of 
robbers, or a nest of deserters. Before proceeding further, he 
thought it would be the best plan to find who the party was, 
and what it was doing. He was in the middle of a creek 
bottom, dense with trees and bushes. Turning aside, he 
crawled cautiously amid the undergrowth till he discovered an 
opening. In the center of this open space he beheld two 
Yankee soldiers, and an officer of the same nation. Being 
within a few steps of the party, he could distinctly see and 
hear their whole proceedings without exposing himself to 
view. The two men were binding the officer fast to a tree. 
Winston saw that the officer’s face was deathly pale, and he 
guessed the wretches were about to commit a foul murder. He 
kept his position, however, anxious to see the result of this 
strange maneuver. 

“Say your prayers, Captain,” remarked one of the men, 
when the officer was firmly bound. “I give you only ten 
minutes to live. If you have any account to settle with 
heaven, you had*better be at it. Your time has come.” 

“Men,” said the officer, with a countenance as ashy as 
death, “I beseech you, in God’s name, not to murder me. I 
have done only what I conceived to be my duty. You will 
gain nothing by this monstrous crime. Release me; I will 
pay you any amount, and swear to you I will never reveal this 
circumstance.” 

“We ’ve gone too far with it, Captain. We would be pretty 
d — d fools to turn you loose now, to have the woods scoured 
until you could find us, and have us shot.” 

“I swear, before God, I will never mention it.” 

‘-‘It’s no use talking about it. I have sworn to have your 


142 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


life, and you need n’t beg. I tell you, as^ sure as there is a 
God above us, or a devil below us, you shall die. The deep 
disgrace you put on me can be washed out only with blood.” 

“That’s what I say,” chimed in the accomplice. 

“If you have anything to say to old Master,” continued 
the first speaker, “you’d better be at it. You can spend the 
time in any manner you please, though.” 

“How shall we kill him, Jim? Shoot him?” 

“No, by G — d; do you want to let the whole world know 
what we are about ? I shall cut his throat.” 

The poor Federal officer seemed to give himself up for lost. 
He spoke not a word for two minutes, but gazed at the two 
ruffians in silent despair. 

“Can nothing induce you to avoid this crime?” asked the 
officer, in a voice of extreme agony. “I ask you, in the name 
of mercy, to spare me. I will pay you till you are satisfied.” 

“You did n’t spare me. Captain. You ought to have 
thought of this when you were disgracing me by using your 
little authority. It is my time now. ‘Every dog has his 
day,’ you know. Your time is nearly out,” continued the 
wretch, drawing a long bowie-knife. “You have half a 
minute only.” 

“0 Godl save me from these wretches,” cried the poor 
officer, in a tone of despair that aroused every instinct of 
humanity in the spy’s heart. Winston could endure it no 
longer. 

“God answers the prayer!” cried the spy, bounding like a 
tiger from where he stood, with a cocked pistol in either hand. 
The surprise was so sudden that the two soldiers stood stock- 
still, as if petrified. “Raise but a finger, move but a muscle, 
and I will shoot you where you stand,” said the spy, leveling 
a pistol at the breast of each. “Drop your weapons where 
you are, or else you will be dead men in less time than you 
gave your victim.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 143 

“And who are you ?” asked one of the men, recovering 
from his surprise, but without daring to move. 

“Drop your weapon, sir, or I will shoot you through the 
heart. Drop it instantly.” 

The two crest-fallen wretches saw the fire fiashing from the 
blue eye, and they knew this person was not to be trifled with ; 
so they let their knives fall to the ground.” 

“Now, then, undo your belts, and lay down your pistols. 
If I discover the least sign of resistance I will send you botu 
into eternity without a moment’s warning.” 

“Before I do that thing,” said one, “I want to know what 
for?” 

“ Do as I bid you, if you want to live,” replied the spy. 

The wretches obeyed; and as soon as they were disarmed, 
the spy ordered them to untie the rope with which they had 
bound the officer. When this was done the spy said : 

“Now, gentlemen, I would like to have an explanation of 
this extraordinary occurrence. I am a stranger to all parties 
concerned, but I love fair play. Captain, what does this 
mean?” 

“These two wretches,” replied the officer, “were some time 
since detected in the commission of a very disgraceful crime, 
for which I had them severely punished. There lives in the 
neighborhood of this place a nice family, in which I was 
deeply interested. But because they were rebels in prin- 
ciple ” 

The sentence was not finished ; for the two men suddenly 
and simultaneously jerked out each a pocket Derringer. Three 
reports, following each other in quick succession, were heard. 
But only one of the men had fired; for Winston, who had 
kept his eye on them, perceiving their intentions, leveled his 
pistol as quick as thought, and one of the soldiers dropped 
dead in his tracks, with his undischarged weapon in his hand. 
The flash was scarcely seen from the weapon of the other 


144 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


before a ball from Winston’s unerring repeater had penetrated 
his brain. The two men were lying corpses, side by side. 

“Are you hurt, Captain ?” asked the spy. 

“No, not at all,” was the reply. 

“Then, farewelir exclaimed Winston, springing into the 
bushes, and leaving the astonished officer alone with the dead. 
He heard the Federal Captain calling after him, but, for 
reasons known only to himself, he returned no answer. 

He :ic 4; :ic :|c 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


145 


CHAPTER XII 

t 

^‘That face of his the hungry cannibals 
"Would not have touched, would not have stain’d with bloodj 
But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, — 

0, ten times more than tigers of Hyrcania.” 

When the spy had been in Memphis a day or two, there 
was considerable excitement in regard to a grand raid which 
was to be made into the State of Mississippi. These move- 
ments were extensively inaugurated by the Yankees as one 
means of starving out the rebels — a system of policy which, 
it was thought at one time, would put an end to the revolution. 
Wherever they went, desolation, misery, and suffering were sure 
to follow in their wake. With even worse than savage bar- 
barity, they would seize the last morsel of food from a poor 
widow, whose husband had fallen on the battle-field, and wan- 
tonly destroy it before her face. They have been known to 
take bread from a child and throw it to the dogs, despite the 
piteous cries of the helpless and starving infant. Dwelling 
houses were burned to the ground at the dead hour of mid- 
night, and women and children were turned out without a 
single change of clothing — sometimes in a state of almost en- 
tire nudity — to shiver in the wintry winds. In some in- 
stances, old gray-headed men were murdered simply because 
they had the audacity to give burial to a Confederate guerrilla, 
killed in lawful combat. In short, the records of antiquity 
may be searched, the histories of the most cruel wars of 
ancient times may be ransacked, and nothing can be found 
equal in hellish atrocity to the acts committed by the Union- 
ists of 1861. Let the reader compare the following directions 
of Abii-Bekr, issued more than twelve hundred years ago, 

10 


146 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


with the savage events to be described in this chapter, and he 
will conclude the Yankees have relapsed into barbarism. 

“If you conquer,” said this heathen commander to his 
generals, “spare the aged, the infirm, the women, and the 
children. Cut down no palm-trees; destroy no fields of corn; 
spare all the fruit-trees; slay no cattle, but such as are wanted 
for food.” 

If the Yankees in the war of 1861 did not violate each and 
all of these directions, then the testimony of a million of 
witnesses goes for naught. 

At the time Winston entered the city of Memphis, there 
was a colonel making preparations for one of these • raids, 
designed for the collection of booty and for the commission 
of general outrages. We will not insult the reader by men- 
tioning the name of one who is marked in the black book that 
contains the roll of those who violate God’s holy laws. It is 
recorded in the infernal regions, and there let it rest till the 
owner shall answer to it, when he goes down to the dark spot 
where there shall be “wailing and gnashing of teeth.” For 
the sake of its appropriateness, we will call him by the expres- 
sive and significant sobriquet of Nero. The spy, in order to 
become better acquainted with the enemy’s purposes and his 
mode of warfare, attached himself to the body-guard of this 
doughty ofl&cer. When the force was sufl&cient and all ready 
for the expedition. Colonel Nero marched forth from the city, 
with the black fiag streaming in the breeze. The troops had 
scarcely reached the suburbs of Memphis before the work of 
robbery and plunder commenced. Squads of five or six to- 
gether broke off from the main body, and completely ravaged 
the country for miles on either side of the road ; and wherever 
they made their appearance the inhabitants were left in a 
totally destitute condition. Huge volumes of black smoke 
rolled up to the clouds, showing plainly in what direction the 
enemy was going and in what he was engaged. Mothers with 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


147 


their frightened infants fled to the woods; old silver-haired 
men hobbled to the forests. They did not dare to meet an 
enemy who would rob them of even their last garment. The 
Yankees, finding dwellings thus abandoned, destroyed every 
thing which could be of any possible use, and then fired the 
houses; and when the frightened owners returned, they saw 
their once happy homes a heap of ashes. Many a sufferer 
will remember, with a sorrowful heart, this first day’s march 
of Colonel Nero. Winston was compelled to witness many 
scenes of heart-rending outrage at which his feelings revolted, 
but which he was powerless to prevent, The next day he 
took occasion to remonstrate with the commander of the ex- 
pedition. 

“Colonel Nero,” said the spy, in a mild tone, “I observe 
some of our men committing outrages which I think you will 
not approve, and that are certainly contrary to all the recog- 
nized modes of warfare. I take the liberty of mentioning 
this to you, thinking you are unaware of it, and that your 
sense of justice and right would prompt you to take measures 
for the prevention of unnecessary severity.” 

“Who the h — 11 are you?” asked Colonel Nero, with an 
expression of sternness, but at the same time of interest, or 
at least with something akin to curiosity. 

The hero had spoken in a tone that marked him as a man 
of education and intelligence; and the Yankee officer seemed 
extremely surprised to find a person in his horde of cut- 
throats of so much refinement of feeling. Therefore, notwith- 
standing the uncouth language he had used, he did not appear 
averse to a closer acquaintance with Winston. 

“I volunteered, sir,” was the response to Colonel Nero’s 
question, “in the city of Memphis, to participate in this expe- 
dition; and, as a loyal citizen of the United States, and one 
who wishes to restore peace to this distracted country, I feel 
in duty bound to report to you the outrages committed by our 


148 


THE CONFEDEKATE SPY. 


soldiers, which I venture to say are unauthorized by the gov- 
ernment, and are done without your knowledge and consent.” 

“And what outrages have ray soldiers been guilty of?” 

“I have observed some of them insult defenseless females; 
I have seen others tear up, in mere wantonness, the wearing 
apparel of women and children; and, worse than that, I have 
seen them destroy the last morsel of food belonging to a poor 
destitute widow. I c‘an not believe, sir, that such unnecessary 
deeds will meet with your approbation.” 

Colonel Nero seemed a little amused. “And these you 
call outrages?” said he, laughing. “Well, if you see no 
worse than what you have mentioned, the rebs will fare d — d 
light. I guess before we get back you will not be quite so 
squeamish.” 

“Do I understand you to mean. Colonel Nero, that all the 
proceedings I have witnessed are authorized by you?” 

“Whether they are or not, I don’t care a d — n. Why, 
what does war mean? Is n’t it right to forage on the subsist- 
ence of your enemy? Is n’t it right to do him all the harm 
in your power? I thought all nations had recognized such a 
principle.” 

“ But still. Colonel, it is not necessary that the horrors of 
war should extend to women and children. A state ofWar- 
fare in any country is to be deplored, but it becomes doubly 
and trebly so when those become subject to its ravages who 
are in no way responsible for its inauguration. In a country 
like ours, where we profess to be fighting for the restoration 
of the Union, and that alone, it appears to me that the more 
leniently the people are treated, the more easily will our object 
be accomplished. We should not, in my humble opinion, 
interfere with any property except that which the rebel gov- 
ernment claims. How must the Confederates feel toward us, 
who wantonly destroy the food necessary to the maintenance 
of their families? Why, by so doing, we will drive men into 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


149 


the ranks of the rebels to fight, not for the Confederacy, but 
merely for revenge. We should treat the southern people as 
erring children, and thus prove to them that our only object is 
to re-establish the government which they, in their blindness 
and folly, have overthrown. Thus all, seeing that our inten- 
tions are to preserve the country and defend her honor, will 
flock with their former reverence and devotion to the time- 
honored ‘stars and stripes,’ wherever they may be unfurled. 
But it appears to me that if we persist in the adoption of a 
difierent line of policy, we will defeat the object we have in 
view, and widen the unfortunate breach we are now attempting 
to repair.” 

“Well, by G- — d!” exclaimed Colonel Nero, “I must say 
you would do better as a preacher than a soldier. If I had a 
vacancy in my command I would appoint you chaplain. But 
may be you will not be so tender-hearted when you soldier it 
awhile. You will find that your line of policy will not do for 
these d — d Mississippi rebels. Why, they would laugh at us 
for contemptible fools if we passed through the country with- 
out laying it waste, and curse us for imbecile dotards, afraid 
to draw down upon our heads the vengeance of fire-eating 
secessionists. No, by G — d! we must destroy as we go, and 
make this d — d people feel the power of our government. 
The State of Mississippi is a damnable ‘secesh’ hole, and her 
citizens richly merit all the punishment it is in our power 
to inflict; and they shall be handled without gloves wherever 
I go.” 

“I greatly fear, then, Colonel, our efforts will never he 
crowned with success. This people will be inspired with 
hatred of us and our cause, and will look upon us as little 
better than savages.” 

“They may look upon us in any way they please,” replied 
Colonel Nero. “I believe the whole race of whites in the 
South will have to be entirely exterminated. Indeed, this is 


150 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


the avowed policy of the government. This country must be 
repeopled with a loyal race, and the sooner they are killed off 
the better. Once having agreed that extermination is the 
true doctrine, and that it furnishes the true solution of the 
problem of the war, we may as well commence to put it in 
practice. But if we protect women and their rebel brats, the 
d — d traitors will increase like — like the children of Israel 
under Egyptian task -masters.” 

“Let our government,” replied Winston, in a solemn voice, 
“take care that the southerners do not, indeed, become the 
children of Israel, and ourselves their cruel oppressors; and 
that we do not meet with' a retribution similar,, in severity at 
least, to that which overtook Pharaoh and his followers. For 
our cruelty to this people, God might send upon us troubles 
more destructive than the plagues of Egypt. Already many 
of the first-born in our country have been slain ; lamentation 
is heard in nearly every dwelling; around nearly every fire- 
side there is a vacant seat; our whole country may soon be 
enveloped in gloom, and we may curse the day that witnessed 
the beginning of this cruel and savage confiict.” 

“You remind me very much,” answered Colonel Nero, 
“of a dialogue I used to act when a boy. You recollect 
what Lochiel said to the wizard? May be it will do you 
good. 

preach to the coward, thou death-telling seerl 
Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear. 

Draw, dotard, around thy old wand’ring sight 
This mantle to cover the phantoms of fright.’” 

“And, Colonel, I also recollect what the wizard said to 
Lochiel. His words may not be inapplicable. 

***Ha! laugh’st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn? 

Proud bird of the mountains, thy plume shall be torn 1 
Say, rush the bold eagle exultingly forth . 

From his home in the dark-rolling clouds of the North? 


THE CONFEDEPwATB SPY. 


151 


Lol the death-shot of foemen out-speeding, he rode, 
Companionless, bearing destruction abroad; 

But down let him stoop from his havoc on high — 

Ah! home let him speed — -for the spoiler is nigh.’'* 

“ Ah, well, never mind now,” said Colonel Nero, interrupt- 
ing. “I did not wish to get into an argument on this subject. 
You will see before we return what kind of arguments are 
necessary to convince rebels; and I doubt not you will make a 
good soldier; but, changing the subject, what state are you 
from?” 

“I am from Ohio.” 

“You do not belong to the regular army?” 

“No sir; I attached myself temporarily to your body- 
guard.” 

“If you would enter the regular vservice, I think I could 
easily procure you a commission. Will you accept it?” 

“I desire no position, Colonel, at present. Perhaps in time 
to come I might take your advice; but just now it would 
not suit my purposes to adopt your suggestion.” 

At this moment a courier came galloping up with the intel- 
ligence that a strong force of guerrillas was ahead. The 
reports of several guns had already been heard, apparently 
about a mile in advance of the main body. On this, the 
second day of the enemy’s march, they had been considerably 
annoyed by this species of warfare, and more than one had 
been seen to fall from his horse while passing by dense 
thickets, or other positions favorable to the concealment of 
ambuscades. This mode of combat was particularly disagree 
able to the Yankees, who dreaded nothing more than the 
Confederate horseman, flying from hill to hill, and pouring the 
contents of his deadly rifle into their moving ranks. Conse- 
quently, whenever a guerrilla was so unfortunate as to be cap- 
tured, he was treated with unusual severity. So bitter was 
the hatred of the Federals against this class of warriors, that 


152 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


all wlio showed the least favor to, or manifested the least 
sympathy for, a Confederate rover of the woods, were sub- 
jected to punishment of the most cruel and vigorous charac- 
ter. The rage of the Yankees, in this respect, bore a striking 
resemblance to that of a school-boy, who vents his spleen 
upon the unconscious obstacle that checks his locomotion by 
resisting the momentum of his feet. With similar feelings, 
the Federals would set fire to houses behind which their Con- 
federate foes had sheltered themselves, or they would apply 
the lash to defenseless females and crying babes who were in 
any way connected with the rebel guerrilla. Sometimes deeds 
of bloodshed were committed which will darken the page of 
history on which they are recorded,- and tinge with the black- 
ness of infamy what little military glory our “northern 
brethren” have otherwise acquired during the progress of the 
war. Such a scene Henry Winston was now doomed to wit- 
ness. For when Colonel Nero reached the spot at which the 
fire of the Confederate guerrillas had been unusually destruc- 
tive, and saw a large number of corpses dressed in blue 
stretched upon the earth, his rage knew no bounds. He 
cursed and swore in his wrath that “the whole d — d race of 
the South should be wiped out; d — d cowardly assassins, to 
skulk in the bushes and behind trees to shoot down brave 
soldiers! By G — d, the inhabitants of the country should 
sufier for it, and rue the day in which they had offered en- 
couragement to d — d outlaws and robbers, who called them- 
selves Confederate guerrillas; that they should, by G — d, or 
his name was not Nero!” 

While thus raging and foaming, his attention was directed 
to several persons standing in front of a small, neat cottage, 
that was situated not a great distance from the road-side. The 
party consisted of an old lady, her daughter, and a little boy, 
apparently fourteen or fifteen years of age. He was the old 
lady’s son. A. pale, sickly young man, in almost the last 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


153 


stages of consumption, was lying bleeding upon the ground, 
severely wounded in the side. He proved to be the youth- 
ful husband of the young woman who was bending over him 
with frantic affection. Colonel Nero approached. 

“By Gr — d,” said he, “here is one of the d — d rascals now. 
Here, men, take the infernal guerrilla and swing him to 
yonder tree by the road. It will be a good lesson to the 
d — d rebels.” 

“0, sir!” exclaimed the young wife, terrified by the ap- 
proach of several soldiers, who were preparing to execute the 
command of their oflScer, “0, sir, my husband is no guerrilla. 
He never was in the army in his life. He had nothing to do 
with the fight, but was standing in the yard when he was shot 
from the road by your men. 0, for the love of heaven, spare 
my poor husband! I will get on my knees to you!” cried the 
distracted wife, suiting the action to the word, and wringing 
her hands in unutterable anguish. The scene would have 
aroused the pity of even a brute, but it made no impression 
on the miistard-seed heart of Colonel Nero. 

“Ho as I bade you, men!” bawled Colonel Nero, paying no 
attention to the pitiable entreaties of the kneeling woman. 

During all this time little attention was paid to the boy, 
who stood with his hands working in his pockets, his dark 
eyes wide open with astonishment and horror. His frame 
shook and shivered under the influence of feelings which can 
not be described, but may be imagined. The little fellow 
looked on for a moment; then, when he fully comprehended 
the proceeding, he suddenly seized a gun lying on the ground, 
and before the Yankees were aware of his intentions, fired 
into the midst of those who were binding his wounded 
brother-in-law. Two of the wretches dropped dead, and the 
others shrank back with exclamations of surprise and rage. 

“Thank God!” exclaimed the old lady, scarcely aware of 
what she was saying, and of the full import of her words. 


154 


THE CONFEDERATE bPY. 


“D — d old hag!” fairly roared Colonel Nero. “I will 
teach you to thank God! The little viper shall hang by the 
side of the guerrilla, and both shall dangle in the air, and 
their rotten carcasses be devoured by buzzards.” 

The boy, as soon as he saw what he had done, was attempt- 
ing to make his escape, but was quickly overtaken and bound 
hand and foot. The poor child screamed and called upon his 
mother in the heart-rending language of infantile fright. 

“0, my poor, my poor boy!” cried the mother, throwing 
herself by his side in fearful agony. Colonel Nero seemed to 
hesitate. It was, however, only for a moment, and not from 
any feeling of sympathy. The heartless desperado was dead 
to any emotions of that character. He was merely studying 
what disposition to make of the two females. It did not 
require the diabolical wretch long to make up his mind. 

“Here, men, seize these two hell-cats, tie them with their 
backs to that tree, and let them witness the death-struggles of 
this little devil and this d — d guerrilla; then we will leave 
them all to perish together. Be quick.” 

The cruel and never-before-heard.-of command was literally 
obeyed, and the two females were fastened to the oak to 
which Colonel Nero had pointed, and in the manner he had 
directed. Two ropes were then adjusted around the necks of 
the boy and his brother-in-law, and thrown over a limb that 
projected immediately over the heads of the mother and 
daughter. Winston now reached the spot upon which this 
tragedy was enacting. His first impulse was to draw his 
weapons and shoot the merciless officer, who was giving direc- 
tions with a heartlessness surprising even to his own followers. 
When the spy beheld the two women bound, the wounded 
citizen and the boy with ropes about their necks, his hand 
involuntarily grasped the butt of his pistol, but in a second 
afterward the folly of executing the thought that prompted 
the act was apparent and obvious, and would be attended with 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


155 


extreme danger, if not certain death, to himself, without allevi- 
ating the distress of the sufferers. So, curbing his feelings, 
he approached Colonel Nero, and addressed him: 

“In God’s name, Colonel Nero, I beg you to remember 
who you are. As the commander of this expedition, it be- 
comes you to put a stop to this foul proceeding. The United 
States Government does not” — . — 

“Take care, young man, take care,” exclaimed Colonel 
Nero, in a stern voice. “I want none of your preaching 
now. Do n’t preach to me, sir.” 

“Colonel,” said the undaunted hero, in a solemn tone, “as 
you hope for God’s mercy yourself, I beg you, I entreat you, 
in the name of all that is sacred, to desist from your purpose. 
The crime you propose to commit will demand the sternest 
retaliation on the part of the rebel government, and you 
will thus cause double misery. I beg you not to load your 
conscience with the guilt of murder, and not to disgrace our 
government by the execution of a wounded non-combatant 
and a child.” 

“Hush, sir, or, by G — d, I will put you in their company. 
Swing them up, men — swing them up!” 

Winston drew back with feelings of horror when he saw 
that Colonel Nero was determined to execute his bloody pur- 
pose. The two victims felt the ropes tighten about their 
necks, and in an instant they were dangling and struggling 
in the air. The mother and daughter cast one look of 
ineffable agony and despair upon the bodies that were sway- 
ing to and fro: and then, after two or three loud, heart- 
piercing shrieks, kind nature applied the remedy demanded 
by overwrought feeling, and they were ignorant of passing 
events. The husband’s blood, which was now started afresh 
by his violent struggles, streamed down upon the unconscious 
wife. The bells were ringing in “the lower world” for joy, 
because a deed had been done which swelled the “black list,” 


156 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


and placed many Yankee souls beyond the reach of human 
repentance and God’s mercy. 

Colonel Nero looked on this tragical scene, probably the 
most horrible and revolting to the human heart that ever was 
recorded upon the history of a civilized nation, with apparent 
enjoyment. After surveying it awhile, he suddenly started. 

“Mount, men — mount and -away!” he exclaimed. 

And the whole command was soon passing near the little 
boy and the unoffending citizen, from whom life was rapidly 
ebbing away. Satan himself, could he have been standing by, 
would have loudly rejoiced at the depravity of soul and heart, 
and the destitution of feeling, evinced in the various remarks 
made by different soldiers of the moving army. 

“Grin on, my larkies,” exclaimed one, as he looked up at 
the uncovered faces of the gasping bodies — “grin on; you’ll 
soon get your discharges.” 

“Jim,” cried another to his comrade, “don’t they whirl 
and dance with a vim; how they ‘cut the pigeon-wing!’ ” 

“I guess,” replied the individual addressed, “you would 
dance, too, if you were standing on nothing and pulling 
hemp.” 

“Look at the little devil,” said a third, “kicking at his 
mamma. The old woman never learned him any manners.” 

With such heartless exclamations as these, the whole army 
passed by ; and in a short time the helpless victims of Yankee 
barbarity and malignity were left to themselves — two to die, 
their last struggles unseen by human eyes, and two to recover 
from their swoon, only to behold the ghastly spectacle of all 
they loved dangling from the bough of the tree to which they 
themselves were securely bound. 

Acts similar to the above, be it recorded to the eternal dis- 
grace of the whole northern race, were committed all the way 
to Oxford, Mississippi. When the Yankees reached this 
pleasant little village, the location of the State University, 


THE CONFEDEKATE SPY. 


157 


their treatment of the unfortunate and helpless citizens is not 
equaled in cruel vindictiveness in the world’s history from the 
creation of man. The citizens, including delicate and refined 
females, were grossly and brutally insulted; their dwellings 
were closely searched; their yards were dug up, under the 
supposition that treasures or valuables of some character 
might have been buried in the earth. No nook nor corner 
escaped the inquisitive glance of these argus-eyed vandals. 
Sometimes a ham or a jar of preserves, which a fond mother 
had concealed for her darling babes, would be drawn forth, 
amid the brutish laughter of the restorers of the Union^ who 
declared that the ‘‘ southern soil is the richest in the world to 
grow preserves in the ground.” 

No living animal was left in^e town, and when the enemy 
decamped, the inhabitants were actually on the point of star- 
vation ; and for several days afterward they were forced to the 
necessity of subsisting upon decaying hog’s heads, and other 
debris, which the Yankees had thrown away. Many parents, 
who were living in Oxford at the time, will recollect with 
shuddering horror how their famishing children cried for 
bread, and even begged food of a thrice-cursed enemy. All 
this, however, might have been borne with patience, as the 
unavoidable sacrifices of a people battling for liberty and in- 
dependence, had the robbery of the Yankees been confined to 
the living. But the sanctity of the graveyard was invaded, 
and the wretched Oxonians were doomed to see the skeletons 
of departed friends, who had been dead and slumbering peace- 
fully for years, disinterred, and their resting-places disturbed 
in the search for gold. The mother saw her beloved infant’s 
little bones rudely trampled on the ground. One saw the 
ashes of an aged father poured on the surface of the earth; 
another saw the coffin of a dear wife burst asunder with an 
ax, and her fleshless fingers rigidly examined for rings 1 And, 
to crown this unheard-of proceeding, Colonel Nero had the 


158 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


skeleton of a prominent citizen sent back to Memphis to a 
friend, who was a physician. In a word, the proceedings of 
the Yankees at Oxford are without a parallel in the history 
of man. 

One more exploit of the redoubtable Colonel Nero must be 
recorded — an exploit Winston had the mortification to witness. 
It was as much as our hero could do to restrain himself from 
shooting the brute ; but he knew it would be worse than folly, 
and "would only furnish the Yankees with an excuse for com- 
mitting still more horrible outrages. He, therefore, choked 
down his anger as well as he could, and looked on in sorrow 
and disgust. Colonel Nero entered the residence of a gentle- 
man who had an accomplished daughter, a young lady of 
refined manners and cultivated mind and heart. Going into 
the parlor, where the lady happened to be seated. Colonel 
Nero addressed her with a most unjustifiable and impertinent 
familiarity. 

“My sweet creature,” said he, “I am so glad to meet you; 
you look so much like an angel compared with the rebel girls. 
I hope, my dear, my entrance will not be regarded in the light 
of an intrusion.” 

“I have not,” replied the young lady, trembling, “been in 
the habit of receiving strangers without an introduction. We 
are, however, at your mercy, and I bespeak that protection 
due to my sex.” 

“Fear nothing, my darling girl; I merely called for some 
music. I see you are a musician. Now, my little angel, take 
this guitar,” said he, rising and handing it to her, “and favor 
me with one or two airs; then we will part good friends.” 

The frightened girl, thinking to rid herself of the presence 
of the brute by a compliance with his request, received the 
instrument. 

• “ What shall I play, sir?” 

“ The Star-spangled Banner, to begin with, if you please.” 


THE CONFEDEBATE SPY. 


159 


The air was sung without any spirit and in a tremulous 
voice. 

“That did very well, Miss. You sing like an angel. Now 
we will sing that good old national air, Yankee Doodle, 
together. I hope you are still sufficiently patriotic to ap- 
preciate it.” 

“You must excuse me for not complying with your request, 
as I am not in the habit of singing t^at, and never have been.” 

“ I hope, Miss, you are not one of the d — d rebels, too ; 
therefore, I insist.” 

“If you are a gentleman, you will excuse me when I tell 
you it is disagreeable to my feelings.” 

“Disagreeable! H — 11! what makes it disagreeable? You 
can sing it; and I insist upon my request being granted. I 
can inform you that I profess to be a gentleman, too.” 

“Your present conduct proves you to be any thing else, 
sir,” replied the young lady, with considerable spirit; “and 
I fear I have already compromised my dignity by remaining 
in your presence this long. I did hope, however, that the 
commander of the Federal forces — for such I understand you 
to be — might have some respect for defenseless females. I did 
hope that he at least was a gentleman.” 

“I tell you. Miss, I am a gentleman; but you must sing 
Yankee Doodle.” 

“ Then I tell you, sir, I will not do it.” 

“ By G — d, Miss, there is a way to make stubborn people 
grant small favors.” 

“I understand you, sir;, but you will find there are some 
who can not be forced into disgraceful measures,” replied the 
young lady, whose fear was now all gone, and who was fully 
aroused; “and I do not hesitate to say you can not intimidate 
me by your threats. You may kill me if you wish.” 

“ I ’ll be d — d,” said Colonel Nero, in a rage, taking the 
guitar, “ if I do n’t try your powers of endurance. Now play 


160 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Yankee'Doodle, or I will break the instrument in pieces, and 
over your head, too, if you provoke me.” 

“Break it, monster — break it! Such an act will be in keep- 
ing with your character.” 

The instrument was slowly raised aloft, but the girl, now 
wrought to a point of heroism that would have defied human 
power, looked at the brute without flinching. Winston would 
at this moment have injprfered, but the young lady was one 
with whom he had been acquainted, and recognition would 
have placed him in a very embarrassing situation. Besides, 
he did not think Colonel Nero would carry his threat into 
execution. He was, however, mistaken, for the instrument 
descended upon the young lady’s head with sufficient force to 
burst it wide open. She fell to the floor momentarily stunned, 
but almost immediately recovered. She arose and left the 
parlor. Colonel Nero followed, and entered her own room, 
and in the young lady’s presence kissed the chamber-maid. 

“ IF you were not a brute,” said the young lady, “ I would 
ask you to retire.” 

“You are still impertinent; take care. Miss, or I will carry 
you ofi* as Ulysses did Chryseis. That would be quite interest- 
ing and romantic, would n’t it? Hal ha! ha! But lend me 
the key to your wardrobe. I want to see what you have to 
wear, if I should carry you off.” 

“You can get no key from me, sir.” 

“0, very well. Miss Stubborn, I can easily break it open. 
Girl,” said he to the chamber-maid, “bring me an ax. Go 
quick, my love, and I will make you a present.” 

The maid, who was extremely frightened, obeyed, and soon 
appeared with the desired implement. Colonel Nero took it 
and with one blow burst open the lady’s wardrobe. Taking 
out a very fine silk dress, he turned to the chamber-maid. 

“Here, beauty, this is very pretty; I promised you some- 
thing; take it, and wear it for my sake.” 


THE CONFEDEKATE SPY. 


161 


“ O, marster, I do n’t want it. It belongs to Miss L 

“Now come, don’t you be a d — d fool, too. Here, take 
it, and try it on. I want to see how it fits.” 

“0, marster, I do n’t want to. I can’t.” 

“By G — d, you shall! Now do as I tell you, or I will split 
your head open with this ax. I ’ll be d — d if I do n’t.” 

And the Colonel raised up the ax as if he were in earnest. 
The maid was thus forced to comply with the officer’s wishes, 
and arrayed herself in her mistress’ apparel. 

“I declare!” exclaimed Colonel Nero, with a hoarse laugh, 
“you look really handsome. Go with me, and you shall 
be married to some of my officers. You deserve a good 
husband.” 

“I do n’t want to be married; I’d rather stay with Miss 
L .” 

“You would, eh? Well, stay with Miss L , and I want 

you to teach Miss L some manners. Now, Miss L , 

the next time I call, I hope you will be in a better humor. 
Good morning, ladies.” 

Henry Winston was sick at heart, and completely disgusted 
with Yankee proceedings. Seeing' that he could accomplish 
no good by remaining longer, he resolved to desert his present 
command. So, after conveying information to the Confederate 
authorities, by means which need not be mentioned, as to the 
intentions of the enemy, his numbers, and so on, he set out 
that very night in the direction of Memphis. The next day 
he reached the spot which was the scene of one of the most 
disgraceful and horrible deeds that ever tarnished the fame of 
any civilized nation under the wide canopy of heaven. The 
two women were still bound to the tree, nearly famished. 
They were, however, soon released by our hero, who then pro- 
ceeded to take down the bodies of the little boy and the 
citizen. The poor wife laid her hands on her husband’s face; 
then, looking up vacantly, she uttered a wild, piercing scream, 

11 


162 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


the mad shriek of a raving maniac, and rushed to the woods. 
She was never seen again. But months afterward a skeleton 
was discovered in a deep ravine, several miles from the scene 
of this tragical occurrence, and was supposed to be that of the 
unfortunate citizen’s wife. Winston, after seeing that the 
corpses were properly interred, and assisting the poor old 
woman to a relative’s house, where all her wants could be 
supplied, journeyed on, and in due course of time arrived 
in the city of Memphis. But he made only a short halt. 
Taking a boat, he was soon sailing on the bosom of the 
great “Father of Waters.” 


* THE CONFEDERATE ‘ SPY. 


163 


CHAPTER XIII. 

I know I love in vain, strive against hope, 

Yet, in this captious and intenable sieve, 

I still pour in the waters of my love. 

And lack not to lose still j thus, Indian-like, 

Religious in mine error, I adore 
The sun that looks upon his worshiper. 

But knows him no more.” 

We must now return to Emily Burrell. Those who have 
been so unfortunate as to feel the pangs of disappointed love 
can, without any difficulty, imagine what she suffered. No 
humaii misery is so acute and exquisite as pure love sustained 
only by slight hope. Time can assuage the grief occasioned 
by the death of friends, but when the arrow of Cupid pierces 
deep in the heart, the wound it inflicts is eternal; and the 
victim of unrequited passion pines away, like Narcissus griev- 
ing for a shadow. The wheel of Ixion, the stone of Sisyphus, 
the thirst of Tantalus, are but feeble types to express the 
igonies of slighted love. In vain the suffering soul strives 
ind struggles to forget; the coveted plunge into Lethe can 
Qot be made. Earth loses all her charms; the mind’s appe- 
tite is gone; the vale of Tempe, Mount Parnassus and Heli- 
con, Hippocrene and Castalia, can no longer furnish pleasure 
to the sick, craving soul. In vain Euterpe’s strains come 
swelling on the gale; in vain Phoebus strikes the lyre, 
and Calliope recites the song; wherever the disappointed 
lover may fly, he feels the anguish of Prometheus pinned 
to the rock, with vultures gnawing at his self-restoring heart; 
until, at last, he is ready to exclaim, in the accents of 


164 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


despair, as did Satan when expelled from the glories of 
Paradise : 

«Me miserable! which way shall I fly 
Infinite wrath and infinite despair? 

Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; 

And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep 
Still threatening to devour me opens wide. 

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.” 

Poor woman, stricken with hopeless love, indeed suffers the 
tortures of Tartarus. With man the case is different. Amid 
the exciting scenes and intoxicating pleasures of the world he 
finds some alleviation of his torments. As Byron expresses 
it — 

“Man’s love is of man’s life a thing apart — 

’T is woman’s whole existence; man may range 
The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart. 

Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange 
Pride, fame, ambition to fill up his heart.” 

The affection of woman is naturally stronger than that of 
the “rougher sex,” and when she yields up the rich treasures 
of her heart, her happiness or misery is eternally sealed. No 
substitute can supersede the cherished idol she worships. 
Like the deep, calm waters of a placid stream that glides on, 
undried by the summer’s sun, her love flows constant and true, 
till death stills her blood and chills her heart. 

With such undying affection did Emily cherish the un- 
fading image of Henry Winston. The intensity of her deep 
feeling was evidenced by the pale cheek, the sunken eye, the 
slow step, and the vacant look, which showed plainly to the 
observer that her thoughts were far from the objects at which 
she gazed. Winston was in her thoughts by day, and in her 
dreams by night. Every thing around her father’s dwelling 
spoke of him. If she rode out, she passed by the old oak 
under which she first saw him lying as dead. If she visited 
her bower, she blushed at the recollection of the thrilling 


165 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 

words which had fallen upon her ears like music from an 
angel’s harp. And then when she reflected that he whose 
voice had stirred such wild emotions in her heaving breast 
was gone, and probably gone forever, her heart sank within 
her, the paleness of death would overspread her countenance, 
and she would clasp her hands in mute, silent despair. She 
would wander into the room in which he had suffered, in 
which she had read to him, and in which her young love had 
burst forth, when she was ignorant even of its very nature. 
Then the recollection of her utter desolation of heart would 
rush to her mind, like the dim shadow of a frightful ghost, 
and she would attempt to flee from her own wretchedness. 
Sometimes she could not but weep in the bitterness of her 
disappointment. 

“0, those are tears of bitterness, 

Wrung from the breaking heart, 

When two, blest in their tenderness. 

Must learn to live apart I” 

To add to her troubles. Major Burrell had died, and she 
was now indeed alone. Emily would have sunk under the 
weight of her severe trials had not the hope of eventually 
meeting Henry Winston sustained her. This conviction, or 
rather presentiment, fastened upon her mind, and frequently 
dispelled the clouds of darkness, r Sometimes bright visions 
of future happiness would dance before her upon the murky 
bosom of the slough of despondency. She had not heard one 
word from him since his abrupt departure from Kentucky. 
Months had dragged slowly by, and had lengthened into 
years, but still no tidings of the absent lover had gladdened 
her aching heart. Somehow, though she could not tell why, 
she felt that her brother would meet with Henry, and write to 
her concerning the fact. Yet she had received frequent letters 
from James, and the beloved name of Winston had never been 
mentioned, though she was looking for it in every line. Then 


166 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


she would partly abandon this idea, and would hope that when 
the difficulties which distracted the country should pass away, 
the rash lover would return to her side and fully atone for his 
folly. She still believed hitn true, although she could not 
reconcile all his actions. And in this state of suspense, of 
doubt and of fear, she lived on from day to day, in the alter- 
nations of hope and despair, in wretchedness and misery. 

Immediately after the fall of Vicksburg, Emily received a 
letter from Colonel Burrell, stating the accident which had 
happened to him on the 4th of July, and requesting her 
presence until he would be able to travel. She at once com- 
plied, glad of an opportunity to fly from her lonesomeness. 
She soon joined her brother, and they were staying at a private 
house in the city. Faithfully and afiectionately she attended 
to the wants of the wounded officer, until now he was almost 
healed. As yet she had not breathed a word of her sorrow, 
though she had no secrets from her brother. One morning 
they were sitting together in the parlor, when the Colonel said : 

“I have just received two months’ leave of absence, Emily, 
and I have an idea of setting out. to-night for Washington 
City. I am going to get my papers of retirement from active 
service. Would you like to accompany me?” 

“I will go anywhere you wish, brother. I have no desire 
to return home. I And only misery there. To be with you 
is now the only pleasure I have on this earth. I will go any- 
where you say.” 

“I do not understand why you should be so wretched,” 
said Colonel Burrell, Angering her glossy curls, “and yet I 
see something distresses you. I notice a great change in your 
appearance, too, my dear sister. You look pale and sickly; 
but probably you have paid too much attention to me, to the 
neglect of your own health.” 

“No, no; I experience no physical suflering. There are 
some ills,” she said, leaning her head on his breast, “which 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 167 

the ‘healing art’ can not relieve. They rankle in the heart, 
and such are mine” 

“I hope my suspicions are incorrect, and that I misunder- 
stand you; but, for fear I may mortify your feelings by a 
guess, tell me* what are the ills to which you allude.” 

“If you would think of the past, it seems to me you could 
be at no loss. The events of my monotonous life have not 
been so many that you might not select one which would 
cause distress.” 

“Is it our father’s death you take so hard?” 

“ That is one, but there is yet another.” 

“Emily,” said the Colonel, with a troubled expression, 
“is this man Winston, this rebel, connected with your dis- 
tress?” 

It was the first time she had heard the name mentioned for 
months. It sent the warm blood to her countenance. Start- 
ing up, she eagerly looked the officer in the face. 

“Rebel, brother, rebel! How do you know he is a rebel?” 

“ I should think I have very good reason to know, when I 
saw him myself; and not only that, but saved his life.” 

The crimson tide curdled to her heart, and a deathly pallor 
overspread her beautiful features, as she thought that Win- 
ston might be dead. She could not speak, but gazed at her 
brother with an inquiring, anxious look, which was pitiable to 
behold. The Colonel noticed the sudden change, and seemed 
troubled. 

“My poor sister,” said he, taking her trembling hand in 
his, “is it possible you are still interested in the fate of this 
faithless man?” 

“Does he live?” she cried, with a sudden start. “0, tell 
me, for heaven’s sake!” 

“ He does, for aught I know to the contrary. He was seen 
in this city the day of the surrender. I saw him myself some 
time before this.” And here Colonel Burrell gave Emily a 


168 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


full account of the circumstance which took place at the 
battle of Corinth. 

“And you saved his life? Glod will bless you, brother 

James, and I thank you a thousand and a thousand times.” 

“Emily, I am astonished at this emotion. Can you love a 
rebel, now in arms against his country?” 

“Rebel!” cried she wildly, springing to the floor. “0, 
heaven! I believe I would love him if he were a highway 
robber! Don’t frown, brother James, don’t frown; I can 
not help it. Would to God I could! 0, James, sometimes I 

want to lie down and die; I want death to release me from 

my miseries.” And she took her seat by her brother’s side 
and wept bitterly. 

“My poor, unhappy sister, I sympathize with you deeply; 
but I did hope you would not waste your affection upon a 
rebel.” 

“I, too, am a rebel,” she said, drying her tears. “I never 
was in favor of this aggressive war on the South, and I have 
always been sorry that you took sides against your native 
country.” 

“Why, Emily, my rash-talking sister, this is treasonable, 
and I would not have any one else hear you talk so for the 
world.” 

“If it is treason, I can’t help it. My sympathies have 
always been with the Confederates — or rebels, as you choose 
to call them; and I hope and believe they will meet with ulti- 
mate success. 1 have never said this much to any one before, 
but it was on your account. I regret that you did not deem 
it your duty to take up arms in defense of our native state, 
instead of assisting the tyrant to plant his foot on her neck.” 

“My God! I take up arms in favor of this accursed rebel- 
lion! Why, you must be crazy. You know not what you 
say.” 

“I know, brother, you think us poor women ignorant in 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


169 


regard to politics; but I have read more on this subject 
than you are aware of; at least I have read enough to form 
an opinion, which is now unalterable. I tell you candidly 
I see nothing dishonorable in being a rebel. Indeed, I can 
not call this movement a common rebellion. It is a grand 
revolution — the reclamation by the southern people of rights 
to which they are entitled under the Constitution, and by the 
very nature of the government itself” 

“You are stark mad, Emily, and guilty of high treason, too.” 

“If this is treason — the mere expression of my opposition 
to the prosecution of this unjust warfare, and %e persecution 
of the southern people — it only shows that our boasted free- 
dom of thought and speech is gone, and that our republican 
government has assumed the character of a despotism. The 
sooner, then, it falls to pieces the better. I do not know much 
about politics, it is true; but I know it is galling to my spirit 
to see Kentucky, 4he dark and bloody ground,’ overrun by 
hired minions.” 

“You do not call me a hired minion, I hope?” 

“No, James, no; but you are affiliating with them. You 
are helping to rivet chains upon the country which gave you 
birth.” 

“ I take quite a different view from that. I look upon it 
as a great and patriotic work to put down rebellion. I do my 
state service when I help to whip her back under the protec- 
tion of the best government the world ever saw.” 

“But then, brother, fifty-eight counties were represented in 
the convention which declared Kentucky again free and inde- 
pendent. The majority rules, you know.” 

“I do not concede to Kentucky nor any other state the 
right to secede from the Union, and thus subvert the govern- 
ment. It in but a poor and weak government that recognizes 
the abominable principle of secession, and allows its member 
to withdraw whenever they see proper.” 


170 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“You speak of things as they should he, brother, or rather 
as they might be. I speak of them as they actually exist. I 
do not take upon myself to determine whether secession, as a 
principle, is right or wrong. I leave that for wiser heads than 
mine. But it seems very clear to me that, from the nature of 
the government, and the manner it was organized, its compo- 
nent members, the several states, have a perfect right to with- 
draw whenever they think themselves aggrieved. The several 
states made the General Government, and delegated to it 
certain powers ; but still reserving to themselves the right to 
reclaim those granted powers when the Union should cease 
to accomplish the objects for which it was intended and 
established.” 

“And where did you learn all this?” 

“I have been reading the history of the adoption of the 
Constitution. I recollect very clearly that the convention of 
Virginia, which ratified the constitution for that state, stated 
distinctly and forcibly, in resolutions, the character of the 
political contract into which the states were about entering. I 
suppose you have read them, brother?” 

“No, I have, not.” 

“Well, I can easily find them.” And going to the library, 
she returned with a book, and read as follows : 

“ ‘We, the delegates of the people of Virginia, duly elected 
in pursuance of a recommendation from the General Assembly, 
and now met in convention, and being prepared, as well as the 
most mature deliberation hath enabled us, to decide thereon, 
do, in the name and in behalf of the people of Virginia, 
declare and make known that the powers granted under the 
Constitution, being derived from the people of the United 
States, may be resumed by them whensoever the same shall be 
perverted to their injury or oppression; and that every power 
not granted thereby remains with them and at their will,’ etc. 

“Now then,” continued Emily, laying the book aside, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


171 


“these resolutions were at the time taken as the true expo- 
sition of the principles constituting the basis of the govern- 
ment. No objection whatever was raised to Virginia’s con- 
struction, and upon it the Constitution was adopted. Accord- 
ingly Kentucky and all the other states, in their sovereign 
capacities, had a right to secede from the Union.” 

“General Jackson,” replied Colonel Burrell, “did not think 
so when he was about to chastise South Carolina for rebellious 
conduct.” • 

“South Carolina, brother, if I am correctly informed, did 
not attempt to secede; she simply declared her right to re- 
main in the Union and nullify a law of Congress. She did no 
more than what every state in the North, with the exception 
of Illinois and New Jersey, has done. For when the fugitive 
slave law was passed, in 1850, the northern states not only 
nullified it, but resisted it by combinations of armed men, and 
thus were guilty of the very thing for which South Carolina 
was so loudly condemned. The northern states have nullified 
two acts of Congress, and a clause of the Constitution besides. 
But even if South Carolina had seceded. General Jackson’s 
action or opinion can not alter facts. If the southern states 
should be forced back into the Union (and I for one should 
deplore such an event, because this republic could not then 
be any thing but an oppressive monarchy or despotism), the 
fact still stares you in the face that they created the gov- 
ernment; they made it and are, in consequence, superior to 
it. Their subjugation will only prove that brute force can 
sometimes triumph over right and justice. In the event 
they are subdued, it seems to me the conquerors will be at a 
loss to reconcile their victory with the principle that consti- 
tutes the corner-stone of all republics. How can a govern- 
ment deriving its powers from the consent of the governed, 
consistently hold in subjection states that would be admitted 
into the Union upon the footing of equals? These con- 


172 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


quered provinces — for they could be called nothing else — 
would exercise the functions of sovereignty only by the per- 
mission of those who, from the very terms of the political 
contract, could lay no just claim to superiority. That will be 
a strange position for a sovereign state to occupy.” 

“Your arguments are mere quibbles, sister; for the grounds 
diametrically opposite to those you take appear to me as plain 
as daylight. Secession is an abominable principle, and one 
which, if it be acknowledged as a feature in government, the 
very foundations of society would be overthrown. Such a 
government would be next to anarchy, and would contain 
within itself the elements of destruction. No one would 
have any guarantee of security in a commercial point of view. 
The right of property would stand upon such uncertain 
grounds that free trade would necessarily be shackled and 
restricted. There could be but little confidence between the 
citizens of different states. For instance, how could I own 
real estate here in Mississippi when she possesses the right 
to withdraw from the Union at any time, and to make laws 
which would place me on the footing of a foreigner, and 
probably render my title insecure? Besides, what induce- 
ment would there be for the Gfeneral Gfovernment to extend its 
boundaries if new states, admitted to all the rights and privi- 
leges which the others enjoy, can secede as soon as they 
emerge from the condition of a territory, and leave her com- 
panions to pay the purchase money? You see your doctrine 
will not do, and I am sorry you have formed such erroneous 
opinions.” 

“I do not see it from any thing you have said,” replied 
Emily, with a faint smile. “You seem to me to avoid the 
main question. I can admit every word you have said, for 
you have made no attack upon the position I took in the out- 
set. You are discussing general principles rather than the par- 
ticular question at issue. As I told you before, I do not say 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


173 


that secession, as an abstract principle, is right or is wrong. I 
am not enough of a politician for that. But this I do know, 
that when the Constitution was adopted the rights and powers 
of all the states were distinctly defined, and among these was 
the right of secession. If it has not operated in accordance 
with expectation, we must abide by the consequences. It is 
certainly too late now to say that the states did not possess 
this right, simply because it was inconvenient to New England 
to lose the wealth wrung from the South, in the shape of high 
tariffs, etc. This power, it was explicitly declared, is reserved 
to the states. If such were not the case, I would agree with 
you that this is a rebellion on the part of the South. As it is 
now, the war is nothing but a grand conflict against truth and 
justice.” 

“0, well, sister, I do not care about arguing the question. 
If your views are correct, we have discovered our error, and 
are going to reorganize the government. We will not, as you 
say, hold the southern states as conquered provinces; for- the 
rebels will be exterminated and replaced by loyal citizens, who 
will cheerfully discharge those duties which traitors have the 
audacity to contemn.” 

“0, brother,” said Emily, with solemnity, “do not speak 
so lightly of ‘exterminating the rebels.’ It is a most fearful 
undertaking to blot out a whole nation from the face of the 
earth — one you should be certain God sanctions and approves. 
0, James, be not of the party engaged in this unholy work. 
Think of poor, down-trodden Poland, that all the civilized 
world saw torn to pieces, limb by limb, and her lands divided 
among her rapacious conquerors. What if this should be the 
fate of the South? What pleasure could it afford you to see 
the proud State of Mississippi, now stained with the blood of 
her noble sons, subdued and humbled to the dust, and her 
high-spirited people driven, like the poor Indians, to the wil- 
derness. You, a Kentuckian and a southron, and jour heart 


174 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


not sicken at the very thought! I hope and trust in God you 
<vill never see a southern state reduced to such an humbled 
condition. I tell you, brother, heaven will not suffer it. God 
will raise up armies to fight for this people, as he did in the 
days of Washington. Do you not recollect what our fathers 
suffered in the revolution of ’76? They were driven from 
every stronghold, and a British guard was stationed at nearly 
every door; yet they were not conquered. The half-clad 
followers of Washington fled to the forest; barefooted they 
marched over ice and snow, and the blood streamed from their 
feet as they walked; with no covering to protect their shiv- 
ering bodies from the howling blast, they rested their weary 
limbs upon the cold, damp bosom of the earth ; dark, gloomy 
clouds gathered over them at the hour of midnight, and the 
pitiless rain beat upon their defenseless heads; gaunt hunger 
pinched their famished bodies; and yet, in spite of all this, 
they faltered not. The consequence was, God crowned their 
heroic efforts with success. In like manner will the southern 
people be successful. Their country may be Overrun for 
awhile; Richmond, Atlanta, Charleston, and all other cities 
may fall; their armies may be dejected and discouraged; but 
they will finally be triumphant. Virginia, Mississippi, Louis- 
iana may now groan beneath the iron tread of the oppressor, 
but they will yet shake off their fetters in proud defiance. 
Kentucky, our native state, that now lies bleeding at every 
pore, will spring up from the dust, full panoplied in the armor 
of war, and strike down the invader whose foot pollutes her 
soil. I know I appear to you as a Cassandra, but I feel 
what I say, and you will see that my predictions will be liter- 
ally fulfilled. The day is not far distant when all this will be 
accomplished. Proud, then, will be the humblest soldier that 
shouldared a musket in defense of the South; and happy will 
be even the mother, the blood of whose son has been washed 
from southern soil by the rains of heaven.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


175 


“And how do you know all this?” asked the officer, who 
seemed deeply interested in and entertained by the impio- 
sioned eloquence of his sister. 

“I pretend not to be inspired nor to be blessed with the 
gift of penetrating the future more than other mortals. But 
if I know it not, then the experience of all history is in vain. 
I know it because I can not believe that God will suffer the 
crimes committed by the Federals to go unpunished. Such a 
people can never carry out the inffimous policy proposed by 
the United States Government. No; but, instead, Nemesis 
will hurl back, with tenfold vengeance, upon the instigators 
of this cruel war, the afflictions they intend for the South. 
Too many dark deeds have been perpetrated.. It would be too 
great a triumph of vice over suffering virtue and innocence 
for the North to succeed in her efforts.” 

“ For God’s sake, sister, do not let any one else hear you 
talk so. You would be sent to prison.” 

“And if I should, I would only be one among a thousand 
sufferers. Their treatment of citizens in this respect is scan- 
dalous and disgraceful in the extreme. I have not yet told 
you of the fate of our kind neighbor. General Winston.” 

“No; what of him?” 

“One cold, winter night, the poor old man was dragged 
from his bed and taken before a Federal officer. The General 
promptly refused to take the oath of allegiance. He was then 
sent to Alton, Illinois, and all his property confiscated. A few 
weeks ago we received tidings of his death, brought about by 
exposure and starvation. But he is only one among hundreds 
who have been treated in the same inhuman manner. Some 
of the most revolting crimes have been, committed in our 
neighborhood that ever harrowed the feelings of the human 
heart. You recollect the Waldrop family? Well, poor old 
Mr. Waldrop was shot before his wife’s face; and when this 
horrible tragedy was ended, the murderers told Mrs. Waldrop 


176 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


and her two daughters to get what clothing they wanted out 
of the house. As soon as they had done this, the wretches 
set fire to the building, and while it was burning they took 
the clothing the ladies had gotten out and threw it in the 
flames. The poor creatures were then left, half-clad, to shift 
for themselves. The widow Warren, who lives about ten 
miles from our house, they beat with a leather strap until the 
old lady was nearly dead. She was confined to her bed for 
several months afterward. They told her they wanted her to 
see how her servants felt when she chastised them with the 
strap. Your old friends, the Johnsons, the Tremewheres, the 
Waltons, and the Lindsays, have all been sent beyond the 
Federal lines, simply because they would not take the 
oath of allegiance. Just to think, then, that all these 
disgraceful deeds, in one neighborhood, constitute only a 
single link in the long series of cruelties practiced over the 
whole territory of the South, is enough to nerve the arm 
of the veriest coward to fight in the defense of helpless 
women and children.” 

“The rebels would treat the Unionists just as bad should 
they invade our country.” 

“The rebels, as you call them, are making no attempt to 
invade the territory of the United States. They are fighting 
exclusively on the defensive. They simply ask you to go 
home, and let them alone in peace. You have no right to 
treat them cruelly, and contrary to all the established usages 
of warfare, merely because you suppose they would act as the 
Federals do should they become the invading party. The 
Confederates have not acted in this infamous manner in the 
few instances in which they have gone beyond their own lines. 
And even if they should act like the Federals, they would be 
justified by the lex talionis in any deed they could possibiy 
commit.” 

“If you uttered such sentiments, how did you escape ban- 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 177 

ishmeut with the other rebel sympathizers? or do you hold 
your peace in Kentucky?” 

“It is wise, brother, to be silent sometimes. I have not 
gone from home since the commencement of the war. As I 
told you, I have never talked upon this subject before, not 
even to our father. You know I have always been a sort of a 
recluse. Henceforth I expect to live in entire retirement. I 
can not enjoy society. I can .truly say, in the language of 
Margaret Davidson : 

“ ‘A shade hath passed 
Athwart my brightest visions here; 

A oloud of darkest gloom hath wrapped 
The remnant of my brief career; 

No song, no echo can I win — 

The sparkling fount hath dried within.’ ” 

“Emily,” said the brother, sorrowfully, “it pains and grieves 
me to see you give way to such feelings of melancholy. I do 
not think, in this instance, you display your usual good sense. 
If this man Winston has proved false, it seems to me the best 
thing you can do is to forget him as soon as possible. Come, 
cheer up. The whole bright world is before you. You are 
young, beautiful, and accomplished ; and it is worse than mad- 
ness to throw your affections away, and waste your youthful 
bloom in useless sorrow. We are going to Washington City, 
where all is bright, gay, and happy. You must there go into 
society. Amid the festivities and gayeties of the place you 
will forget this little unhappy incident, which, I doubt not, in 
the course of time, you will laugh at as one of the childish 
follies of youth.” 

“When do you say we start?” asked Emily, making no 
reply to this last insinuation against her constancy. 

“I think we would better go to-night, on the gun-boat , 

for safety. It would be dangerous to go any other way now, 
as guerrillas are numerous along the banks of the Mississippi. 
I am compelled to go by the way of Memphis. By the way, 

12 


178 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


our cousin Walter has received an appointment in Washing- 
ton, and will accompany us.” 

“ Brother,” said Emily, with a look which seemed to some- 
what surprise the officer, and appeared rather foreign to his 
sister, “do not say us; at least do not include nie. Walter 
Hallam can no longer possess even my friendship. I have 
lost my respect for him, and he will be no company for me. 
Of course I shall say nothing against his going on the boat, 
hut I wish to see as little of him as possible. The very sight 
of him will make me miserable.” 

“Well, well, sister,” said the officer, with an appearance of 
some little vexation, “do as you please; but go now and make 
the necessary arrangements for our departure.” 

Emily obeyed without another word, and the officer was 
left alone to his own cogitations. 


THE CONFEDERATE Sf-/. 


179 


CHAPTER XIV. 

“To-night you, pilot, shall not sleop. 

Who trims his narrow’d sail; 

To-night you, frigate, scarce shall keep 
Her broad breast to the gale.” 

That night the splendid gun-boat steamed slowly out 

from the city and up the river, with her complement of men 
and arms. A lady, attended by two gentlemen, one of whom 
hobbled on a crutch, was observed to get aboard by several 
bystanders, who were watching the boat’s departure. It was 
Emily, Walter, and Colonel Burrell. For several days the 
dark monster, looking like an immense turtle, moved slowly 
up the broad stream of the Mississippi. Emily had rather 
a lonesome time of it. She avoided Walter Hallam, and 
repelled all his advances with a coldness which deeply 
wounded his feelings. Seeing that his attentions were so 
palpably disagreeable, and ignorant of the fact that Emily 
had been made acquainted with his exploit on the battle-field 
of Corinth, he resolved to demand an explanation of the sud- 
den and, to him, unaccountable change which had taken place 
in his cousin’s feelings. He had never mentioned the circum- 
stance himself, and was in hopes she never would hear of it, 
at least until her partiality for Winston should be obliterated 
by the progress of time. 

One evening, a little before sunset, when the boat was 
within twenty or thirty miles of Memphis, he again sought 
Emily, whom he found gazing with a pensive air on the- 
glories of the sinking sun. 

“May I join ‘you ?” asked Walter, approaching, “or do you 
still prefer to be alone?” 


180 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Alone, if you please,” replied Emily, without turning 
her head. 

“Before I leave you, Emily,” said Walter, “I want you 
to tell me why you have avoided me and treated me with 
such rudeness on this trip. Have I offended you in any way 
of late?” 

“I do not always feel like talking,” she slowly replied. 
“ Sometimes I like to be by myself, and enjoy the pleasure of 
my own thoughts.” 

“Yes; but I have observed for several days that you have 
avoided me as if I were a monster instead of your relative. 
You have not spoken half a dozen words to me since we left 
Vicksburg. You surely have some reason for such strange 
conduct. Now I, for one, despise all little petty deceptions. 
If I do not like a man, I tell him so, and tell him why, too. 
If I have made you mad, I want you to let me know it, and 
do not always be pouting when I come near you. Emily, I 
have loved you — I love you now. Often I have thought of 
you, even when the balls of the rebels were whizzing around 
my head.” 

“Are you sure,” cried she quickly, and looking him straight 
in the face, “ that your actions upon battle-fields, ‘ when the 
balls of the rebels were whizzing around your head,’ did 
credit to your heart, and would add luster to the character of 
a hrave man? Answer me that, I pray you.” 

“By the powers of heaven, Emily, if you were not a 
woman, I would hurl you into the water below. Do you 
accuse me of cowardice? Is this what you mean?” 

“I did not accuse you of any thing. I only asked you a 
question.” 

“ From the peculiar manner in which you looked at me, and 
your tone of voice, you meant something, and I should like 
to know what it is.” 

“Why, does the cap fit?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 181 

“Cap — what cap? I wish you would talk common sense, 
Emily. What am I to understand by your question?” 

“Do you think all of your exploits are worthy of a hrave 
man? I think you might understand that question.” 

“ When you can point to one of my actions which I would 
blush to own, then you can ask me such a question.” 

“I think I could mention one which a hrave man would 
blush to own.” 

“ By the eternal gods, Emily, do not call me a coward, or 
I may forget your sex, and treat you as a man. No inariy 
Miss, could have said with impunity what you have. I would 
lay him to the earth, even should he be President Lincoln. 
Name any action of mine that I would be ashamed of” 

“ I can mention one I would be ashamed of were I a man.” 

“What is that?” said Walter, who was now beginning to 
guess to what Emily alluded. 

“Do you think,” asked Emily, looking him steadily in the 
eye, “do you think it characteristic of true bravery to bind a 
wounded prisoner, though he should be an enemy, and take 
his life in cold blood?” 

“Ah, that is it, is it? So you have heard of my difficulty 
with Winston? If it had been any other person in whom* 
you were less interested, you would think differently. You 
now take altogether a one-sided view of the matter. But you 
need not think I am ashamed of it.” 

“You ought to be, if you are not. I would not treat even 
a cur in such a manner.” 

“ And that is why you have so scrupulously avoided me for 
the last week or two?” said Hallam, thoughtfully. 

“If such a supposition will prevent your asking further 
questions on that point, you can take it as a reason.” 

“ If it were any body besides yourself, Emily, I could make 
a satisfactory explanation. But you are so wrapped up in this 
traitorous rebel, or at least you seem so to be, that you can 


182 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


not listen to reason. If any man ever was justifiable, I cer- 
tainly was. I am sorry I did not accomplish my purpose 
every time I think of my innocent sister, who fell a victim to 
*1 premature grave on account of this man’s rascality. You 
are acquainted with the circumstance; and, since you are, it 
does appear strange and incomprehensible to me that you will 
insult your friends for the sake of a vile wretch who has evi- 
dently sacrificed your feelings for the gratification of his pride 
and vanity. Here, for the last two or three weeks, you have 
treated me shamefully — me, who would not injure a hair of 
your head, you have scarcely spoken to, and when you did 
speak it was in monosyllables, and with an indifference that 
was chilling to my heart. And for what, Emily, I ask you — 
for what? For a man who scorns the love you lavish upon 
him; who has treated you with contempt; who has played with 
you, as a child sports with a toy, for an hour, and then throws 
it aside for some other more interesting; and who, if you 
grieve for him till you sink to the tomb, will boast that you 
died for him.” 

Poor Emily could make no reply. She was puzzled, sorry, 
troubled, and vexed. At one time she was ready to interrupt 
Walter, and overwhelm him with a torrent of indignation. 
Then again she .thought she had probably treated him with 
unjustifiable rudeness. And she had no assurance that 
Henry loved her now. He had threatened to forget her, 
and he may have done so. It might be, as Walter said, that 
he would now hold her in contempt. So, amid all these con- 
flicting emotions and thoughts, she could not but listen. 
Walter continued: 

“You think this man loves you, Emily. I tell you he 
does not. Why will you not take a common-sense 7icw of 
the matter? Why do you cling to the idea that he adores 
you, when, in fact, you have no grounds for such a belief? I 
am acquainted with the whole affair. You need not ask me 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


183 


how I obtained my information ; but you engaged yourself to 
this fellow, and on very slight acquaintance, too. You knew 
nothing whatever of his character; nevertheless, you were 
engaged to be married ; and he told you, on a certain evening 
he would ask your father’s consent to the union. Did he 
come? You did not see him on that day, but it seems he was 
lurking around the house; nobody knows for what purpose. 
That night he left the country without speaking to you, with- 
out seeing you, without making any explanation even to his 
uncle; and still you think he loves you. Is this what you 
call love — to be deserted in contempt?” 

“0, Walter, Walter! you are killing me.” 

“My dear cousin, I know it is an unpalatable truth; but 
you ought to look the truth square in the face. Now, hear 
the whole truth. The fellow wrote you a letter; I am aware 
of its contents. Does he explain his conduct? He makes you 
the party to blame. He tells you that you have deceived him. 
He does not say how or in what; but he takes care to make 
himself appear as the injured one, whose feelings have been 
bruised. There is an air of mystification about the whole 
document. He then writes a note to his uncle, and tells the 
same tale. He lied, Emily! he lied in his foul throat. He 
knew you made no attempt to deceive him, though I say it to 
my own sorrow. If he thought you deceived him, why did 
he not demand an explanation, in broad, open daylight, like an 
honest man? Why did he not explain himself to General 
Winston? He merely made this a pretext to cast you off in 
derision and contempt. He was ashamed to see you, because 
he knew you were true — yes, too true to such a black-hearted 
villain, who would now rejoice over the distress which he has 
caused you.” 

“General Winston,” said Emily, in painful confusion, 
“thought his nephew. was laboring under a mistake.” 

“ A mistake ! Yes, no doubt a very convenient mistake. 


184 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Why did he not give you an opportunity of clearing it up, 
then? Even if there was any mistake, he did not want an 
explanation. It seems that he feared you would hold him to 
the contract of marriage, and he left before you could explain 
your conduct, if it appeared inconsistent to him. He left at 
the dead hour of night, and the next thing we hear of him he 
turns up in the rebel army, and the next thing after that he 
is seen in the Federal army.” 

“What!” cried Emily, “in the Yankee army?” 

“Yes; in the ‘Yankee army,’ as you call it, but not as 
• a Union soldier. I believe he was after no good. A few 
weeks since I saw him with my own eyes in the uniform of 
a Federal soldier. I was going to have him arrested, but 
he sneaked off, just like he did in Kentucky.” 

“And would you have murdered him had he been appre- 
hended?” asked Emily, with a return of the same feeling she 
had manifested at the beginning of this interview. 

“No; I would not. He would have been delivered over to 
the authorities, and no doubt would have been hanged as a 
spy, as he deserved to be.” 

“But you would have been instrumental in having him put 
to death? You would have been a witness?” 

“And why should I not have been? It was clearly my 
duty, and I would have been false to my country not to have 
appeared against him. I would be a witness against any spy. 
The fellow ought to have been killed long ago. Had it not 
been for the interference of your brother, he would certainly 
have received his just deserts at Corinth.” 

“I am glad somebody had a more feeling heart than you 
did. I have thought less of you ever since I heard of that 
disgraceful transaction of yours.” 

“Emily,” said Walter, sorrowfully, “I have borne your 
abuse long enough. Now, I want to know in what relation 
we are to stand hereafter. I have loved you ; I have hum' 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


185 


bled myself to you; I have never said a word to hurt your 
feelings, and I have patiently borne your insults. I am tired 
of it, and I will no longer tolerate it. If you hate me, say 
so, and I will never trouble you again with my presence. I 
I shall not again beg your friendship. But now I want it 
distinctly understood upon what footing we meet henceforth.” 

But Emily did not make any reply. She could not deter- 
mine between her clashing emotions. When she heard Wal- 
ter’s sorrowful tone of voice, the first impulse of her heart 
inclined her to forgiveness. Then Winston would rise up in 
her imagination, bound and bleeding, and Walter pointing a 
gun at his defenseless breast. She knew not what to say. 

“Will you answer me or not, Emily?” 

“Give me time,” said she; “I can not analyze my own 
feelings just now. To-morrow or some other day I will talk 
to you. Please leave me now; I want to be alone. I do not 
feel like conversing with any one.” 

Hallam gazed at her for an instant without speaking; then, 
turning slowly, left her to the solitude of her own refiections. 
Emily buried her face in her hands and thought: 

“Did Henry^Winston, indeed, love her? Had he really 
been trifling with her, as Walter had said? Had he ever 
loved Carrie Hallam? Was it not strange that Winston had 
never even alluded to that young lady? He could so easily 
have explained it all. May be Walter was right, after all, 
and Henry had caused his sister ro die of a broken heart. 
Why did not Winston see her before he left, and ask an ex- 
planation, if he thought he was deceived? Why could he not 
have explained himself to General Winston? . It did seem 
strange. He certainly did not love her. But, then, why 
should he have uttered such falsehoods? There was no use 
of that. Should she ever see him again, and have all these 
mysteries cleared up? Walter said he was a spy. No telling, 
then, where he might be now. It would not be impossible 


186 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


for him to be on the boat at this very moment. Would it not 
he strange if he were?” 

As this last thought flashed over Emily’s mind, she did not 
really believe that Winston was within a few yards of her; 
but, nevertheless, it is true. He was on top of the boat as a 
sentinel. Not far from him stood another soldier in the same 
capacity. The night was dark, and the weather was rather 
cool for the season, and one of the sentinels would occasion- 
ally shiver under the influence of the casual breezes that 
swept without resistance over the bosom of the Mississippi; 
but the other seemed not to feel any inconvenience from the 
inclemency of the weather. Could his countenance have 
been seen, it would have indicated that his mind was so 
deeply occupied with some project or thought that his phys- 
ical organization was for the time insensible to the sensations 
of ordinary heat or cold. He was, however, presently in- 
terrupted in his thoughts, whatever they may have been; for 
the other sentinel, becoming tired of the silence, intimated his 
desire to break it. 

“Jones,” said he, addressing himself to Winston, who seems 
to have given that as his name, “ I ’ll be darned if I like to 
stand out here this cold night. There ’s no sense in it, 
neither. You could n’t see a man five steps, and there ’s no 
danger of the rebs firing on the boat such a night as this.” 

“Well, never mind,” replied Winston, “our time will be up 
presently, and we will be relieved.” 

“Jones,” said the other, changing the topic, “how long 
have you been in the service — the naval service?” 

“Not a great while,” was the response. 

“Neither have I, and I don’t like it, either. Be darned 
if T do n’t quit it the first good chance I git. It do n’t suit 
me at all. There ’s no chance to plunder the rebs on one of 
these darned iron-clads. I ’d rather belong to cavalry. We 
used to have jolly times when I was a cavalryman. I did 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


187 


love to go on a raid; I always got so much plunder from the 
secesh ; and then I used, to hug and kiss them rebel gals that 
pretended they did n’t like it, and ran away screaming, jest 
as if we was a set of devils.” 

“The very thing you were, every one of you. Were you 
not ashamed of yourself to insult females?” 

“Ashamed! No; they were rebels.” 

“Could you be a good soldier and be guilty of such con- 
duct?” 

“la good soldier, Jones? No, siree. I never pretended to 
be. I am not such a fool as that. Darn the war ; I never did 
like it, and I didn’t want to have any thing to do with it; but 
they forced me into it, and 1 must have my pay somehow. 
So I take it out o’ the rebs. I take care never to git hurt, 
either. I haint been into a fight yit; and, more than that, I 
never expect to be in one. I ’ve no fancy for that kind of 
work. I always play out, and leave the game of balls to them 
that likes it.” 

“I am afraid you are rather a coward, Williams.” 

“No, Jones, I’m not a coward by nater; but what the 
h — 11 do I want to be killed for? It makes no difierence to 
me whether the nigger is free or not, and that ’s what all this 
fuss is about I would n’t give my life for all the black ras- 
cals in the rebel states, nor spill a drop of blood to free the 
whole darned set. These secesh have never done me any 
harm. I used to be sorter seceshy myself — kinder Democrat, 
you know. Why, then, should I throw my life away? What 
good’ll it do me if the Union is restored, and all the d — d 
niggers free, if I ’ve got a dozen bullet-holes through my 
body? No, sir. I’m a-goin’ to take care of this carcass. 
When peace is made, I want to be thar to drink whisky and 
bust fire-crackers as well as any body else. Nobody ’ll give me 
credit for gittin’ killed. Then, by hoky, I ’m not a-goin’ to set 
my carcass up for the rebs to shoot at. I won’t be benefited 


188 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


neither one way nor t’other, if the rebs are whipped or not 
whipped. It makes no difference with me.” 

“I think you have very little patriotism, Williams,” said 
Winston, who was listening intently to all the fellow said. 

“Not a darned bit of it, Jones. I’d as soon live in one 
country as another. I am selfish, and I know it. But darn 
me if I care about sheddin’ my blood for the Union, when 
some general gits all the credit and honor, and all the pay, 
too. When the war ends, all these officers will run their fists 
into the public crib, and ’ll live like lions. But nary nubbin 
will I git. No, by jingo, if I should ask any little favor of 
the people, no matter how hard I might have fit, they ’d kick 
nie, and send me to the devil for all any body ’d care. Then, 
by dads, the best thing I can do is to take care of A No. 1, 
and I intend to do it, too. I ’ll live as long as any other sol- 
dier of my age, unless I ’m tuk off by a lawful spell of sick- 
ness. Darn me if I do n’t.” 

“You will have no chance to avoid a fight if one occurs 
while you are on this boat. You will have to take your 
chances with the rest. You can not play out then.” 

“No, by hokey, I can’t; and that’s what uneasies me. 
But I don’t expect to be in the service long.” 

“Indeed! bow will you get out of it?” 

“ There ’s more ways to kill a dog besides hanging him. I 
can desert, if there ’s no other way.” 

“Are you not afraid I will report you? You have laid 
yourself liable.” 

“No, I’m not afraid of you, Jones. I know who I’m 
talkin’ to. I ’ve been watchin’ you, J ones, ever since you ’ve 
been on this boat; I ken see you do n’t like the service any 
better than I do.” 

“Why, do I not discharge my duties?” 

“ Yes, but you go at it like you was thinking of something 
else all the time. Sometimes, J ones, do you know, I suspicion 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


189 


you of bein’ a reb yourself. I aint often mistaken in my 
opinion of a man, neither. Now. talkin’ of reportin’, I might 
report you, too. Tit for tat, you know.” 

“I have not said any thing, I am sure, that would lead any 
one to believe I am not a good soldier.” 

“Now, Jones, you need not be afraid of me. There’s ao 
danger of my betrayin’ you. It ’s true, you ’ve said nothin’, 
but you ’ve done somethin’,” said the man. in a whisper. 
“I’ve been watchin’ you, Jones, when you didn’t know any 
body was lookin’ at you. Don’t be frightened, old fellow, 
nobody knows it but me.” 

“Knows what? What are you talking about?” 

“I’m mighty hard to fool, Jones; especially when I smell 
danger ahead to Jack Williams. But I tell you, you need n’t 
be afraid of me. I could a had you put in irons long ago ; 
and if I ’d a bin a good soldier, I ’d a done it, too. But blast 
me if ever I cared which side whipped. I ’ve got nothin’ agin 
the rebs. If I was on neutral grounds it would make little 
odds with me whether Lincoln or Davis was President. But 
now, Jones, to show that I keep my eyes skinned, and that all 
the confidence may n’t be on one side, let me ask you a ques- 
tion.” 

“Very well, go ahead.” 

“ W/ia^ ’s all them pins and that auger fur?” was whispered. 

The Yankee would have started back with fright and fear 
could he have seen the countenance of the spy at the moment 
this whispered question was propounded. The hand of Win- 
ston grasped the handle of a bowie-knife, and drew the dan- 
gerous weapon half-way from its scabbard. It would have 
been but the work of a moment to silence the babbling Yankee 
forever. But another thought seemed to strike him — if the 
fellow had any intention of betraying him, he could have ac- 
complished his purpose long ago. So the instrument was 
quickly thrust back into its sheath. 


190 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Do you know,” said the spy, slowly, “that if I were a 
suspicious character, and were bent on doing mischief, and 
were afraid of your rattling tongue, I could, a dozen times to- 
night, have given your body to the fishes and alligators for 
food?” 

“I told you, Jones,” said the man, drawing back a pace or 
two, “you needn’t be afraid of me. I didn’t know exactly 
what you was after. But I thought it looked kinder sus- 
picious like. I meant no harm. But you see it would n’t be 
safe to tell tales on me.” 

“What kind of tales could I tell on you?” 

“You’re a shrewd boy, Jones, to pump me in that way. 
But I aint afraid to tell you about my desertin’.” 

“Are you going to do that?” 

“I am, Jones, and I believe you are, too.” 

“Well, Williams, you have guessed right for once. I have 
been studying about it for several days. But the difficulty is, 
we will be liable to be apprehended as deserters as long as this 
boat is on the river. We would be advertised at once, you 
know.” 

“That’s soj and so you’re a-goin’ to sink her?” said tho 
Yankee. 

“I did not say so,” quickly answered the spy, who did not 
care to reveal too much at once. “ But would you sink her, if 
you could do so with safety, if by that means you could secure 
your exemption from military service?” 

“I don’t understand you exactly, Jones. I mout escape 
from this boat if she was sunk. But then I would be drafted 
agin. So that would be jumpin’ out o’ the fryin’-pan into the 
fire.” 

“Why did you ever enter the army, Williams? and why 
have you not deserted before now?” 

“ I told you, man, I was drafted. I did n’t have three hun- 
dred dollars to buy my way out. I have stayed this long 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 191 

because I was tryin’ to confiscate enough from the rebs to pay 
my way out, and live decently on the balance.” 

“And have you got enough for this purpose?” 

“Not now I haven’t. I did have; but the officers took it 
from me. The rule is to divide with them for allowing us to 
plunder; but they always take the lion’s share. So I have 
concluded to dissolve partnership. I would have left some 
time ago, but I did not have money enough to buy a break- 
fast.” 

“Now, Williams, if this boat were sunk, and you had five 
hundred dollars, what would you do?” 

“Well, 1 would travel on North till I was drafted agin. 
Then 1 ’d fork over my three hundred, git my papers, go on 
to Canada, and thar I’d stay till the war ends.” 

“Would you sink the boat for that amount?” 

“Well, I do n’t know; but if I did, who ’d give it to me?” 

“That is not the question. Would you sink the boat for 
five hundred dollars?” 

“If I could and save my own bacon, I would.” 

“Now, Williams, do it, and you shall have the money. 
You shall have it in advance.” 

“Look here,” cried Williams, “aint you one o’ them fellers 
as is hired by the rebs to travel the river and burn boats?” 

“No; I am not. But mind how you talk, Williams. I 
will tell you a thing or two to make you a little cautious. 
You may suppose that you have ‘pumped’ me, as you say, 
very nicely. If you do, you are mistaken. You are com- 
pletely in my power. Not in the way you think, though. 
You do not know what danger you are in at this very 
moment.” 

“You are not a-goin’ to murder me, I hope?” said the man, 
in alarm. 

“Not if you are wise, and will hold your tongue. For 
your own good, I will tell you that if you merely cheap, if I 


192 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


discover the least sign of the traitor about you, I can blow 
this boat to atoms in a second. It was well, Williams, you 
kept silent in regard to what you saw. Had any attempt been 
made to arrest me, you would ere this have taken a trip in the 
direction of the moon.” 

“And whar would you have bin?” asked Williams, with a 
shudder. 

“I have made preparations for my own safety. Besides, I 
am not such a coward as you are. I know you, Williams, to 
the very bottom — every inch of you. You are afraid of me, 
and you had better be; for if you make any attempt to 
betray me, it will be the last act of your life. I will touch 
off the magazine, and if I can not make my escape, we will 
all go up or down, as the case may be, together. I am not 
afraid to die, like you are. You understand me, Williams?” 

“I guess I do; but there is no use o’ blowin’ the darn 
thing up. I ’d ruther not try that. So give me the five 
hundred and tell me how, and I ’ll sink her. That ’s what 
I ’ve bin watchin’ you for. I was afraid you had some sich 
notion. I ’m mighty glad you told me, because I never did 
like to drink water in my sleep.” 

“It is well you agree; I knew you would. I will give you 
the money as soon as we are relieved. But now I will give 
you the plan. We will go to the hull of the boat; there is 
only one sentinel there, and he is a negro. I will relieve him. 
You must take the auger and those pins which you saw; 
bore half a dozen holes through the bottom of the boat 
and stop them with the pins. When all is ready, we will 
let the water in and then make our escape. Do you under- 
stand?” 

“I do; but what will become of the other soldiers?” 

“They can swim ashore, I suppose. If they can not, they 
may get out of the difficulty in any way they think best. It 
will be every man’s business to take care of himself.” * 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 193 

“ There is a woman aboard, J ones. What will become of 
her?” 

“That is a strange question for a man of your avowed 
selfishness to ask. What do you care for soldiers or women if 
you can save yourself? But I will see to the lady, if there is 
one on the boat. If no way offers for her to escape, I will 
swim ashore with her. I am well provided with swimming 
apparatus, and can easily save one life besides my own.” 

“Jones, I want to know if you aint one o’ the rebs?” 

“Yes, I am; but if you dare to reveal it, you are a dead 
man the instant the deed is done. I have got you completely 
in my power, Williams, and I intend to keep my eye on yov. 
I could kill you now if I wished to; but you are in no dan 
ger if you will only do what I tell you. I will watch the 
engineer and fireman while you are at work. If you are dis- 
covered, away goes the boat into the air, and Williams along 
with it. So you must be very cautious.” 

“Great God!” cried Williams, in terror, “do n’t blow it up 
while I ’m on it.” 

“You need not fear if you do your part. I will attend to 
the engineer and fireman. The others will all be asleep.” 

“ But the pumps, J ones — the pumps. The water can all be 
pumped out; then we will be discovered.” 

“You would make a good spy, Williams. But I have con- 
sidered the case of the pumps. As a general thing, I per- 
form any thing I undertake thoroughly. I could not be such 
a fool as to overlook things of that sort. I have seen the 
pumps, and I do not think you could get a drop of water 
out with them in their present condition. My impression is 
they will not work well to-night. So if you show no signs 
of fear, but do your part like a brave man, you will be in 
no danger. You can swim, can you not?” 

“0, yes, a day at a time. I do n-’t fear on that score.” 

“ Well, then, you need have no fears on the subject. Do as 
13 


194 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


I tell you, and I will pay you five hundred dollars. Now you 
understand me clearly. If you know what is best for you, 
you will not hesitate nor falter. But keep silent; I hear the 
relief coming now.” 

Accordingly in a few moments Winston and his companion 
were relieved. They descended into the hull, and found, as 
the spy had said, only a solitary negro sentinel. Winston 
easily persuaded the negro to let him stand guard in his place. 
Cuff was no exception to the general law of drowsiness to 
which his whole race is subject, and he gladly consented to 
the proposed arrangement without any inquiry. All the rest 
of the soldiers were buried in deep and profound slumber. 
Winston’s part of the contract with Williams was now ful- 
filled, and he signaled to the Yankee; according to previous 
agreement, to proceed. The spy watched narrowly the mo- 
tions of the engineer and fireman, but he discovered no signs 
that they were aware of any thing unusual. Williams worked 
rapidly but still cautiously; and in a short time he announced 
to the spy, in a whisper, that the work was completed. In a 
low breath he was ordered to let the water in. This the Yan- 
kee quickly did, and moved away to the upper deck, with the 
auger still in his hand. In spite of all his precautions he 
had been observed by the engineer, who did not, however, 
suspect any thing at the time. Our hero abandoned his post, 
and marched leisurely up to the engine, and halted. It was 
not long before the bottom of the boat was covered with 
water. 

“Boys, where is all this water coming from?’^ cried the 
engineer, looking down in surprise. The water rose rapidly. 

“Wake up the crew!” bawled the engineer, in alarm, as he 
heard the water hissing around the engine. “To the pumps, 
•boys! to the pumps! ‘My GodH the boat is sinking!’^ 

The alarm was now soon giveh, and the wildest confusion 
prevailed in all quarters. Winston hastened away to look after 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


195 


the lady mentioned by his accomplice. It did not require 
much time to find Emily, who was standing in a conspicuous 
place, with a light in her hand. When within ten steps of her 
Winston came to a dead halt. The impressions of years were 
crowded into the space ‘ of a single moment. For a few 
seconds a deathly pallor overspread the features of the spy, 
and a keen pang shot through his heart. But Emily was 
looking for her brother, and saw not her former lover. Win- 
ston had little time for reflection, and with a sigh fell back to 
a darker spot, as he saw Walter Hallam come dashing along, 
followed by Colonel Burrell, who moved as fast as his con- 
dition would allow. They approached Emily, and some words 
were uttered, in a quick, hurried tone, which did not reach our 
hero’s ears. However, the trio ascended to the top of the 
boat, and Winston followed at a sufficient distance to prevent 
recognition. Above was another scene of confusion and dis- 
order. Not a single skiff nor canoe could be found that was 
not perforated in the bottom with auger-holes, and damaged in 
other ways. Men were betaking themselves to the water, and 
swimming in the direction of the Arkansas shore. They fol- 
lowed each other like a gang of frightened sheep, and aimed 
for the further bank. The boat was steadily going down, and 
it was evident that in a short time she would rest on the 
bottom of the river. Colonel Burrell and Hallam were stand- 
ing a few paces from Emily conversing rapidly, but the 
majority of the words were lost amid the din and bustle. 
Winston heard Hallam say only, “I can barely swim myself. 
Colonel. With my life-preserver, I can probably save myself, 
and that is the utmost I can do. In the name of heaven, 
what will we do?” Colonel Burrell did not hesitate long. 
In a loud, trembling, husky voice, that showed he was nearly 
beside himself, he exclaimed : “ Five thousand dollars to the 
man who will take this lady ashore!” Emily almost fainted 
when she thus suddenly discovered in what a terrible condition 


196 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


she was placed, and in breathless anxiety the trio listened for 
some one to accept the proposition. But no one seemed to 
regard it. Life was more valuable than gold, and the men 
continued to strike out for terra firma^ until they were all 
gone but three or four, who were making preparations to 
commit themselves to the waves. Colonel Burrell repeated 
the proposition, and then doubled the amount. No one ap 
peared to hear it. 

“God of heaven!” cried Emily, in a voice of despair, “save 
me from the waters 1” 

The Colonel and Walter seemed petrified. They stood 
stone-still. It was at this critical juncture that Winston 
stepped up, with his back to the light. He spoke in a dis- 
guised voice. 

“Trust to me, lady,” he said — “trust to me; I will save 
you though I should perish. Fear nothing, but do as I tell 
you.” 

“Thank God,” cried Colonel Burrell, “there is one brave 
man on the boat. Take her to the shore, my fine fellow, and 
I will reward you till you are satisfied. Which side are you 

“To the Mississippi shore; it is nearer.” 

W’ithout more ado, Winston hastily instructed Emily in the 
part she was to perform, and they were soon buffeting the 
waves of the Mississippi. Colonel Burrell and Hallam were 
not far behind. They could without much difficulty, both 
being provided with artificial helps, keep within speaking dis- 
tance, as Winston was burdened with the weight of Emily. 
However, not a word was spoken, and nothing was heard save 
the sullen roar of the waves and the occasional leap of some 
inhabitant of the watery element, that would rise to the sur- 
face in pursuit of its prey ; then fall back with a heavy plunge, 
as if frightened by the thought of its own audacity. Slowly 
and steadily the swimmers approached the shore. Winston’s 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


197 


thoughts were in rather a tumult while battling against the 
waves, with Emily clinging to him with wild energy, occa- 
sioned by the terrible perils of her situation. His mind was 
carried back to the day when, with seemingly undisguised sin- 
cerity, she had promised him her hand and heart; and the 
thought caused his bosom to heave with a thrilling emotion 
that almost raised him from the water. Then he recalled the 
last scene in the bower, when he heard the astonishing decla- 
ration that Tie torn mt loved; and his body seemed inclined to 
sink beneath the dark wave. For whom was he now saving 
this fair burden? Another question presented itself. Should 
he reveal himself or not when the shore was reached? This 
question he could not decide ; but it soon demanded a deci- 
sion, for in a few minutes after it had crossed his mind the 
twentieth time he was seen standing upon firm ground. 
Emily was shivering with cold. Pulling out a water-proof 
match-box, Winston struck a light and in a short time had a 
bright fire blazing in the gloomy swamp of the Mississippi. 
Colonel Burrell, with the assistance of Hallam, had managed 
to reach the fire after emerging from the river. The two men 
commenced donning their vests in order to dry themselves. 
Winston, with a heavy heart, was on the point of leaving 
without claiming 'his reward or awaiting the thanks of Emily, 
when his eye fell upon a watch which’ Hallam drew from his 
vest pocket and hung to a bush. He thought the instrument 
similar to his own. 

“Thank God,” exclaimed Colonel Burrell, “we are all safe! 
I owe much to you, my friend, for the preservation of this 
lady,” he said, turning to Winston, “and you shall have your 
reward as soon as we can get to Memphis. It will be impos- 
sible for me to redeem my promise here in the swamp.” 

“I ask nothing for saving a fellow-creature’s life,” replied 
the spy, in the same disguised voice he had assumed on the 
boat. “T have done only my duty. Will you allow me,” he 


198 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


continued, addressing Hallam, and taking the watch from the 
bush — “will you allow me to see what the hour is?” 

“Certainly,” said Hallam — -‘“certainly, sir.”. 

“And your name, then, is Winston?” asked the spy, look- 
ing at the name engraved on the case. 

“No, sir,” replied Hallam, casting a glance at Emily, who 
drew nearer in surprise at hearing the name of Winston — 
“no, sir; that watch was captured from a rebel, and fell into 
my hands by a mere accident.” 

“I suspect you are telling an infamous falsehood,” said 
Winston, in a cool tone, that caused the three other person- 
ages to start in astonishment at such an unexpected turn of 
events. 

“Look here, friend,” said Walter, in perfect amazement, 
“what mean you by using such language to a stranger?” 

“ I mean, sir, that this is stolen property. And to prove it,” 
continued Winston, in his natural voice, “the owner stands 
before you. Do you recognize him?” 

The hat was taken off, and a strange expression, which it is 
impossible to describe, played over the features of the spy — 
an expression which made an impression on all the parties 
present. Reader, Emily did not faint nor scream. The ashy 
hue of death was depicted on her face, and she stood still, as 
if her feet were rooted to the soil. The power of utterance 
was momentarily gone, and she looked on this strange scene in 
mute amazement and perplexity. For a moment the spy stood 
with uncovered head, and not a word was spoken. At last 
Winston replaced his hat and broke the death-like silence. 

“I presume, Mr. Hallam, you will urge no objections to the 
lawful owner claiming his property. Captured^ was it? You 
know under what circumstances it was captured. To steal, 
Mr. Hallam — to rob a wounded man — you call to capture. 
That, sir, is a very convenient term for a man who would act 
as cowardly as you did. You formed a league with the very 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 199 

lowest of the human species to rob defenseless prisoners. I 
believe you capable of any crime, sir.” 

“I can stand such language no longer,” exclaimed Hallam, 
springing at the spy. He made but a step or two, however, 
before he lay at his full length, felled by a powerful blow from 
a stout arm. 

“But you shall stand it, though, Mr. Hallam. Now, sir,^ 
lay still where you are. If you attempt to rise, I will frail 
you with a stick like I would a dog. Nay, sir,” he continued, 
seeing Hallam making an effort to draw a weapon, “keep 
quiet. If you show a weapon I will crack your skull with 
this cudgel. I would scorn to exhibit a weapon to such a 
fallen pickpocket as you are. Lay still, sir, or I will chastise 
you, even in the presence of this lady. You probably recol- 
lect the treatment you extended to me on the field of Corinth. 
You would have murdered me had it not been for the timely 
interference of this gentleman. You robbed me; you abused 
and insulted me; you called me coward when I had no chance 
to defend myself Now, sir, we will see who is the coward. I 
would not imbrue my hands in your foul blood without giving 
you, villainous dastard as you are, a showing for your life. 
Now, rise, sir. I have a couple of pistols; you can take your 
choice; or, if pistols suit you not, select your own weapons. 
The place and time, though, must be here and now.” 

“I object to the time, as. the challenged party,” said Hal- 
lam, sulkily, and rising from the ground. “Duels do not 
usually take place in the dark. Wait till daylight, sir.” 

“Detestable thief!” cried Winston, showing a couple of 
pistols, “take your choice. You have as fair a chance as I 
have. Take your choice; or will you stand here before this 
lady and this gentleman as the most pusillanimous wretch on 
earth?” 

“Grreat heaven! gentlemen,” cried Emily, now recovering 
from her surprise and confusion, and rushing between the two 


200 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


mea with uplifted arms, “do not, for heaven’s sake, commit 
murder. Put up your weapons. I entreat you, Mr. Winston, 
for the sake of what once passed between us ” 

“In God’s name, Emily,” exclaimed Colonel Burrell, “do 
not disgrace yourself. Hush, and let me settle this diffi- 
culty.” 

Emily, thus rebuked, retired, with a blushing face, to her 
former position. 

“Now, Mr. Winston,” continued the Colonel, “we have met 
before, as you have said, and under unpleasant circumstances. 
You acknowledge that I rendered you an important service. 
Well, if I did, and you think it really deserving of gratitude, 
I ask you to drop this matter. You have, though, sir, already 
overpaid me in saving the life of one I hold dearer than my 
own.” The spy felt a keen pain in his breast. “It seems, 
then, that we are both under mutual obligations; or, at least, 
have been. Will you not then oblige me still further by giv- 
ing up this purpose of fighting a duel at such a time, and in 
such a place, and under such circumstances? No one here 
doubts your courage. You have shown yourself more than 
once a brave man, and I respect you for it. Now, crown your 
bravery with the God-like virtues of forgiveness and forbear- 
ance. Put up your weapons, and let this difficulty rest where 
it is; or, at least, postpone it until a more suitable time. The 
impropriety of it will appear obvious, if you will reflect that 
there is no surgeon here, in the event that either of you should 
fall dangerously wounded. In short, considering every thing, 
it would be a duel very much out of place.” 

“Perhaps you are right, sir,” said Winston; “be it as you 
say. At your request I desist. But I can not do it if I 
remain here. I am under obligations to you, and I now 
return you my heart-felt thanks. You appear to be a gentle- 
man, and I hope you and this lady may be happy together. 
It may not be a secret to you that I once loved her myself; 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 201 

but I am glad she has found a husband worthy of her beauty 
and her heart. May God bless you both!” 

It may appear surprising to the reader that Emily or 
Colonel Burrell, or both, did not interrupt Winston in the 
midst of these last rapidly uttered remarks, and explain the 
evident mistake under which he was laboring. But neither 
spoke. The supposition appeared so absurd to the Colonel, 
that the first thought which flashed through his mind was, 
how any sensible man could ever have committed such a 
blunder. Emily comprehended it all, and the mystery of 
Winston’s abrupt flight from Kentucky was now unraveled. 
A thrill of wild joy at the thought that she was still loved 
prevented her from speaking. She was waiting for her brother 
to make some reply. Our spy was one of those strange 
characters whose intentions can not be divined until they are 
accomplished. He thought and acted almost with the quick- 
ness of lightning. So, while the Colonel and his sister were 
casting at each other glances of surprise, and each asking the 
other, in the language of the eye, if Winston’s words were 
understood aright, during that interval of only a few 
seconds the spy had turned and was gone. He had van- 
ished almost like a shadow. When the Colonel and Emily 
looked toward the spot where Winston had been standing, 
he could not be seen. A second surprise at his sudden dis- 
appearance prevented either from speaking for the space of 
half a minute, and during all this time Winston was moving 
rapidly away. 

“0, my God!” cried Emily in a wild tone; “he is gone — he 
is gone, without even speaking to me!” 

“Come, Emily,” said Colonel Burrell, with a stern look, 
“you will render yourself contemptible to every body. Hush! 
the man can not be far off.” 

“0, brother, for heaven’s sake, call him back — call him 
back! Let me thank him for the preservation of my life.” 


202 


IHE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“You are mad, Emily, mad! Hush, if you have any self- 
respect left. If he sees proper to depart in this manner, let 
him go. But do n’t, for my sake, disgrace yourself” ‘ 

“ I say let him go, too,” cried Hallam in a voice of rage, 
examining a pistol, “for, by the living God, if he again makes 
his appearance here, he shall die — so help me heaven!” 

“Do not talk rvow^ Walter,” said Emily, with a glance of 
withering scorn and contempt. “If I were you, I do not 
think I would ever open my mouth again.” 

“ Emily,” said the brother, in a stern and peremptory tone, 
“ I command you to keep silent. Hold your tongue.” 

“By heaven!” said Walter, “I will have revenge if it takes 
me a lifetime. The d — d devil is a spy; I will bet my salva- 
tion on it he sunk the boat to-night. By all that is holy, I 
will hunt him down, and he shall hang by the neck till he is 
dead — dead — dead! I will do it, if I lose my life in the 
attempt. I swear it, by the bones of my sister.” 

“Why did you not avenge yourself just now, when you had 
such a chance?” exclaimed Emily, forgetting her own inter- 
ference in the affair.” 

“My God!” said Colonel Burrell, “I believe the girl is 
crazy — stark mad — a perfect maniac!” 

“You may scoff, Emily; but I will have his blood, if I 
have to wade through forty thousand h — 11s to find him! 
Witness the oath, men, devils, and angels!” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


203 


CHAPTER XV. 

prison is 

A touchstone true to try a friend.” 

The next day the four personages last mentioned in the 
previous chapter were all in the city of Memphis. It might 
naturally be supposed that the spy, after the exploit of sinking 
the gun-boat, would not venture near the vicinity where the 
deed was performed, at least until the remembrance of it had 
partially faded from the public mind. But Winston, as we 
have already said, was a strange and rare character. He was 
one who had very vague ideas of the nature of fear, and had 
never felt it in his life. If he desired to visit a place, he 
went without further reflection, regardless of consequences. 
Whenever danger to himself was the question, he gave it not 
a single thought. This feature in the composition of Win- 
ston’s intellectual machinery made him one of the most useful 
and successful spies in the Confederacy, although the assertion 
may be somewhat paradoxical. Let a man move among his 
fellow-creatures like he courts suspicion and deserves it, like 
he feels himself in a dangerous position, and he is almost sure 
to meet with detection. On the other hand, let him play the 
bold game without shrinking, let him look around with an air 
of indifierence, and an appearance of candor, innocence, and 
honesty, and there are ten chances in favor of to one against 
success. Such a character will accomplish his purpose in 
situations of danger without any difficulty, where a more 
timid man would not dare to venture. If there is any one 
quality indispensable to an efficient spy, it is boldness. And 
this is one attribute which stood out prominently in the char- 


204 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


acter of Henry Winston. For the achievement of his object 
he would go into the presence of Abraham Lincoln with an 
undaunted front, and with the same appearance of loyalty 
that he would attend a summons from the commander of the 
southern armies. He was rather an eccentric character, difi&- 
cult to comprehend. One of his most remarkable powers was, 
he could make you read thoughts and emotions in hi^ face 
which really had no existence in his heart; or, if they did, 
were assumed, and yet were seemingly felt as if they were 
actually genuine. He won upon your confidence the moment 
you cast your eye on his face. Nature appeared to have 
stamped upon his brow the words — this man can be trusted. 
This power, however, would have been comparatively useless 
in the capacity of a spy had it not been associated with an- 
other which has already been mentioned; he could read your 
mind apparently at a single glance. He seemed to know by 
intuition how far he could go with, and how much he could 
say to, his enemies without exciting their wrath or suspicion. 
In some instances he may have appeared to the reader to act 
with rashness, when, in fact, the action was but the result of 
cool judgment, formed almost in an instant, founded upon a 
just appreciation of the character and motives of the party 
with whom he was dealing. Being such a man, it is not a 
matter of surprise that he should be found in the city of 
Memphis a few hours after the destruction of one of the finest 
gun-boats the enemy had in his possession. 

Colonel Burrell, Emily, and Hallam had reac.hed Memphis 
with very little trouble; for about the time the sun was cast- 
ing his first golden rays on the gloomy swamp a skiff ap- 
peared in sight, going up the river. The owner was hailed, 
and in a short time our trio was seated in the light craft. In 
three or four hours they were registered on the books of the 
Gayoso, in the city of Memphis. Almost as soon as they 
arrived, Walter Hallam, who was still smarting under the 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


205 


indignity he had sustained, reported the transaction of the pre- 
ceding night to the military authorities. He gave Winston as 
the author of the disaster, and stated his belief that the spy 
was lurking somewhere near, if not within, the city itself. 
After giving an accurate description of Winston, he took his 
departure, and went hack in the direction of the Gayoso. 
While this was going on, the spy, now transformed into a 
citizen, was leisurely strolling up and down Main Street in 
apparent unconcern. And while thus engaged, he was rather 
surprised to see Williams coming up the same street, under 
guard. Stepping into a store, he waited until the guard had 
passed, and then followed on to discover for what his accom- 
plice had been arrested. The prisoner was carried to the 
office of the provost marshal. Winston approached near a 
window, and c6uld easily hear what was going on inside of 
the office. 

“ This is the man,” said the engineer, whose voice the spy 
recognized, “ who I believe had a hand in sinking the boat. I 
observed him dodging about in the boat a short time before it 
was sunk, though I did not think any thing of it at the time. 
Several of the crew besides myself saw him with an auger in 
his hand. I even picked up the auger after he dropped it, 
and found it just fitted the holes in the bottoms of our skiffs, 
which were all too badly damaged to be used. When we got 
to land, I thought this circumstance sufficient to justify his 
arrest. We found upon his person five hundred dollars, when 
it was known that that very day he did not have five cents. 
I am under the impression that he robbed somebody, and then 
sunk the boat to avoid discovery.” 

“What have you to say to this?” said another voice, which 
Winston thought he had heard before. 

“I say it’s not so,” was the response. “I came by the 
money honestly. I ’d like to know who there was on the 
boat that had so much money to lose.” 


206 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Did any person miss that amount?” said the Provost to 
the engineer. “Was there any money at all missed?” 

“We can not tell now, sir. I had more than that amount, 
so did the captain, and several others; but our trunks were 
lost, and we did not have time to see what was missing.” 

“If you did not know, Mr. Williams,” said the Provost, 
“ of any one on the boat who had that much to lose, how did 
you get your five hundred dollars?” 

“I did n’t say I got it on the boat. It was on shore.” 

“That’s a lie, Williams you have had no chance to get 
that much unless you stole it. Some of the soldiers can 
swear you did not have a single cent yesterday.” 

“ They can swear a darn lie, then. I do n’t tell every fool 
what I have got; I do n’t have to account to you for my 
money.” 

“What were you doing with the auger, Mr. Williams?” 
asked the Provost Marshal. 

At this question Williams was observed to slightly wince 
and shrug his shoulders. However, he replied: 

“ I stumped my foot against it on top of the boat, and I 
picked it up to see what it was.” 

“ But, Williams, I saw you with it before you reached the 
top of the boat.” 

Williams was now evidently confused, and made no re- 
sponse. 

“Do you think,” said the Provost to the engineer, “that 
Williams had an accomplice in the affair ?” 

“There was a man with him by the name of Jones. I saw 
them both go down into the hull together; and, since I 
think about it, I recollect Jones was standing near the en- 
gine when I first discovered the water. It is strange he said 
nothing about it, though he must have seen the water be- 
fore I did.” 

“And where is he now?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 207 

“No one knows; lie lias not been seen since last night, 
while he was on the boat.” 

“ He must be found, if possible,” said the Provost Marshal. 
“This affair must be investigated. You had better take 
three or four men,” he continued, to the engineer, “and 
hunt him up.” 

Winston heard this last remark distinctly, and he thought it 
high time to take measures for his own personal safety. For 
that purpose he was turning to leave, when he was accosted by 
a file of Yankee soldiers, who happened to pass at that moment, 
and who thought Winston’s movement rather suspicious. It 
was one of those unlucky accidents which sometimes happen 
in this lower world, despite all human precaution. 

“Faith, an what are ye doin’ here?” asked one of the 
soldiers. 

“I suppose, sir, I am at liberty to go where I please?” 

“By blazes, Pat,” said the other soldier, who was eyeing 
Winston’s face intently, “I believe this is the very man; 
his face suits.” 

“An sure it is, be Jasus! Come jist into our hand.” 

“There’s no harm in trying; so I arrest you. You are 
my prisoner. Come into the ofl&ce.” 

“By what authority?” asked Winston, who saw the folly 
of resistance; “and for what am I arrested?” 

“The Provost Marshal has ordered us to arrest a man 
whose description suits your face exactly; for what purpose 
we know no more than you do. If you are not the man, you 
will soon be released. There ’s no harm done.” 

By another strange but unfortunate coincidence, Walter 
Hallam happened to step up at this juncture. He heard the 
last remark of the guard, and cast a glance at Winston. 

“Well, by heaven! this is lucky,” exclaimed Hallam. 
“Arrest him, men, arrest him. I know the d — d scoundrel. 
You ’ve changed your garb, Mr. Winston, bat you can’t fool 


208 


THE CONFEDERAIE SPY. 


me I know you, sir. You look very innocent indeed; but 
you will soon see. what you have been arrested for. By G — d, 
do you expect to travel all over the United States and destroy 
public property with impunity. No, sir; you are fairly 
caught, and the evidence against you is ample; my own 
will hang you. Bevenge is sweet, Winston — revenge is sweet. 
You have not forgotten the scene of last night, have you? 
Now, by heaven, my time has come. I would take pleasure 
in tying the rope around your neck; for you will be hanged 
as sure as h — 11; and all I regret is, that I can not see it 
done. Bring him on, men, bring him on.” 

Winston did not reply to Hallam; but, casting upon him a 
look of scorn, he yielded without a word to what seemed the 
decrees of inevitable fate. They made but a few steps before 
they were in the office of the Provost Marshal. 

“Ah, here is Jones now,” said the engineer. 

“Jones — h — 11!” exclaimed Walter; “ he is no more* Jones 
than I am. I have known him for several years; his name 
is Winston ; and a more d — d villain walks not unhung. He 
can,” speaking to the Provost, “be convicted of being a spy, 
if the testimony of two witnesses is any thing.” 

The Provost Marshal and Winston were looking at each 
other in mutual surprise. They both recollected where they 
had met first and met last; but neither betrayed any sign. 
The bystanders did not observe the mute indications of recip- 
rocal recognition, concerning which, we may observe, apropos^ 
that a single glance of the eye often conveys as much mean- 
ing and intelligence as could be enforced by a volume of 
words. 

“You must prefer written charges,” at last said the Provost 
to Hallam, “and to-morrow this affair will be investigated.” 
Turning to the guard, he said: “Take these two men to 
prison, and confine them in separate rooms.” 

“ This man Winston, sir,” said Hallam, “ should be put in 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


209 


irons and closely guarded. He is as slippery, as an eel, and 
if lie has half a chance will make his escape.” 

“I need no instructions in regard to my duties,” was the 
response. “He will be properly attended to.” 

Accordingly Williams and Winston were conducted to 
prison; and Hallam, as nothing more could be done at 
present, returned to his hotel. Walter’s eye glistened with 
joy when he thought of his success. 0, how he would 
make his proud, scoffing cousin beg and entreat on her knees, 
and wring her hands in anguish of soul; and his bosom 
glowed with malicious pleasure. It was his time now; his 
star was in the ascendant; he would use his advantage. As 
such thoughts as these were passing in his mind, his steps 
were light and buoyant, and he arrived at the Gayoso, before 
he was scarcely aware of it. He could not keep the good 
news longer to himself, but hastened immediately to Emily’s 
room.* She was alone, engaged in reading. 

“To what purpose am I indebted for the honor of this 
visit?” said Emily, in a tone of slight sarcasm, and laying 
aside her book after Walter had deliberately seated himself. 
She felt vexed at his impudent intrusion. 

“You can talk coldly enough now, Emily. I see you are 
disposed to treat me as a stranger. Well, be it so. I guess 
though, I could move your proud, stubborn heart — I could 
bring tears to your eyes, if I were so disposed.” 

Emily looked him full in the face, to discover, if possible, 
his meaning. She observed his twinkling eye, and knew it 
boded no good to her. She felt the blood crc p, cold and 
sluggish and chilling, through her veins. 

“If you have any thing to say that concerns jne, be at it at 
once. If you have not, I can consider this visit but as an 
intrusion on my privacy.” 

“Intrusion, is it? That word shows very plainly to my 
mind that you no longer regard me as a friend. Well, if it so 

14 


210 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


please you, I have no objection. But I have a little bit of 
news which you may think concerns you. Indeed, I have no 
doubt you would feel deeply interested in it; and 1 rather 
think it would be extremely unkind in me not to tell you of 
it. Shall I communicate it or not?” 

“You can do as you please, sir.” 

“If you are so indifferent in regard to the matter, I do not 
know that I shall enlighten you at all. I know you would be 
glad to hear it, though. No, I think, may be, you would be 
•jorry. The case reminds me a little of what Ben Franklin 
jays about marriage — ‘If you do marry, you will regret it; if 
you do not, you will be sorry for it; if you do either, you will 
repent it.’ So, if I do or do not tell you, you will be sorry; 
ind if you do not- repent, you will no doubt exhibit one of the 
indications of true repentance. You know what that is.” ^ 

“I do not know what you are talking about, sir?” 

“I suppose not; but it would be painful to my feelings to 
be more explicit. The sight of grief always did affect me 
unpleasantly. I never did like to see a woman — especially a 
young woman — in tears. I do not know of a more heart- 
rending spectacle than to see a beautiful maiden wring her 
hands and look up to the skies, with the big, glistening drops 
rolling down her cheeks. Then, sometimes, they will scream, 
and fall in a swoon ; or be converted from rational beings into 
howling lunatics, and become at once fit subjects for the mad- 
house. I have frequently heard of instances of the like; but 
I have never seen a case yet, and I hope I never may. But 
still,” he continued, looking Emily straight in the face, “it 
may be my lot to behold a well authenticated case of intellec- 
tual derange^nent — not exactly intellectual, either, but a dis- 
jase of the heart — yes, what they call broken-heart I have 
never seen a case of that illness, disease, or complaint, or 
whatever it may be called, yet. But, according to the general 
law of nature, I may live many years yet, and I may be an 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


211 


eye-witness. The time may not be far off, when I will see 
a maiden of disordered mind. I hope not, though. Is it not 
a painful thing to see the human mind in ruins; or did you 
ever see a case of insanity?” 

“I think, sir, if you do not furnish an example of it your- 
self, I know not where to find one. With your permission, I 
will ring for assistance, and have you sent to the lunatic 
asylum.” 

“Nay, nay, sweet cousin; keep your seat until you hear the 
latest news. Then you can send me to the mad-house if you 
choose; and if I do go, the probability is you will bear me 
company. But when you hear the news, you, being a true 
patriot, will be disposed to recommend my promotion for sig- 
nal devotion to the glorious cause of the Union, instead of 
having me put in straight-jackets as a madman.” 

“Walter Hallam, if you have any thing to say to me, out 
with it, and then leave me to myself. I am tired of your 
incoherent strain.” 

“Nay, good, kind cousin, do not be impatient. You will 
hear it soon enough. The truth is, I do not like to assume 
the responsibility of breaking the news. What was it one of 
your poets — Shakespeare, I believe — said about the ‘bearer of 
ill-tidings?’ I sometimes remember a few snatches of poetry. 
‘Hath but a losing office,’ — something to that amount. Can 
you recollect it? You read the poets.” 

“Tell me, for pity’s sake, what do you mean? Has any 
thing happened to — to — to brother James?” 

“No, indeed. But do not become so excited, my worthy 
cousin,” continued Walter, with an ill-disguised feeling of 
pleasure. “ I thought you could be moved to show feeling of 
some sort — I thought you could be induced to lay aside your 
highly becoming nonchalance and your freezing indifference.” 

“If that is your object, monster, you shall be disappointed. 
If you have intruded upon me to frighten me by groundless 


212 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


hints and inuendoes, for the sole purpose of beholding dis- 
tress, you shall, for once, be denied that pleasure. I presume 
you have no communication to make; so leave me, if you 
please.” 

“ You are presuming a little too much, my cousin. I do 
know something in which you would be deeply interested. 
But if you commence to call me hard names, I do not know 
but that I will leave you to find it out the best way you can. 
If you still insist on it, I will go.” 

Emily would not have been a woman had she been destitute 
of curiosity; so she did not insist upon his departure. 

“Well, then, if you have any thing to tell, why do you not 
tell it? Why are you trying to keep me in suspense? It is 
useless, for I am determined not to be frightened by your 
hints.” 

“Be patient, generous cousin. I will be more kind to you 
than you have been to me. I will have more respect for your 
feelings than you have ever had for mine. I would not com- 
municate this news at all, but I know you will hear of it; and 
it might be you would not hear of it until the catastrophe had 
become a recorded fact; and then the consequence would be, 
somebody’s nerves would be considerably shocked.” 

Emily made a slight start, in despite of her resolution, as 
a sudden thought flashed like lightning through her mind. 
Walter observed it; but, seeming not to notice it, went on: 

“ I have observed that the wife does not faint often upon 
the corpse of the husband if she attends him in sickness, and 
witnesses his struggles against man’s last enemy. She is then 
prepared for. his death. But only let him, in the bloom of 
health, leave her some day, and then let his bloody corpse be 
sent to her, and her agonies are insupportable. Thus, when 
we hear of the sudden death of any of our friends, the im- 
pression it makes is more stunning in its effect than when we 
anticipate such an event. If we know our friends are bound 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 213 

to die before a great while, when the event does take place, 
we are prepared with the necessary fortitude to meet it.” 

“And what has all this moralizing, these philosophical re- 
flections, to do with me or my friends?” 

“ It may have something to do with you, unless you have 
obtained a special exemption from the distresses incidental to 
humanity. If you have done this, then these philosophical 
reflections, as you please to call them, are not worthy of your 
consideration. Last night, at least, you were subject to the 
common emotions of mortality.” 

“I think, sir, the scene of last night has rendered you non 
compos mentis — deprived you of your reason.” 

“It did, eh? Well, we will see. But I will now come to 
the point. Answer me one question first. Are you a true 
patriot?” 

“I do not see proper to answer questions so digressive.” 

“Digressive, indeed! You will see presently that it is 
closely connected with the subject which is now the topic of 
our. conversation. I am surprised that you do not see its ap- 
plicability at once. But never mind; I can explain it. True 
patriotism in these times requires many grievous and painful 
sacrifices. The mother sends her darling boy to the tented 
field, and never beholds him more; the sister sees her 
brother depart for the wars, with ambitious hopes swelling in 
his breast, and the next news she hears his bones are bleach- 
ing on the southern hills; the distracted wife clings to her 
husband on the door-step, but he tears loose and rushes to the 
conflict; her prattling babes often gather around her, and 
ask questions concerning the absent father, which cause the 
sorrowing wife to wipe the unbidden tear from her eye; but 
after awhile the sad news comes that the husband’s body 
molders beneath Virginia soil, and the wail of anguish arises 
from the widow’s cottage as she clasps her children to her 
breaking heart, and tells them their father is dead.” 


214 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Jesus Christ, have mercy on this unfeeling wretch!” cried 
Emily, with the tears rushing to her eyes. 

Hers was a sensitive mind; and she could see all these 
pictures, which Walter had drawn in simple, pithy language, 
as plainly as if the realities had been before, her. The ex- 
clamation, however, was not the result of any apprehension of 
similar evils falling to her lot.- But the tone of voice in 
which Hallam was speaking, and the language he used, were 
so at variance, were so antagonistic, that she shuddered with 
’ horror at his brutality, while she wept at the thought of the 
stern realities which were now occurring all over the south- 
ern land. The contrast was somewhat similar to boisterous 
laughter in the house of mourning, or mockery in the face of 
a corpse. The feeling of amazement at her cousin’s want of 
sensibility was predominant, and under its influence she 
uttered the above exclamation. Walter appeared to enjoy 
her emotion for a moment, and then proceeded : 

“ But, my fair cousin, if you interrupt me at this particular 
point, you will not clearly see the unity of my ideas on tiiis 
subject. With your permission, I will continue. These are 
all the necessary sacrifices of true patriotism; but there is 
one other which I was going to mention when you inter- 
rupted me, which, if last, may not be least. The maiden, in 
these dark days of blood, bids adieu to her fond lover, who 
girds on the armor of battle and hies away to the field of car- 
nage and strife. A while after he is gone she reads in the 
papers the adored name connected with some deed of valor 
achieved in the face of mighty dangers, and her bosom heaves 
with joy and pleasure. She longs for the absent one to re- 
turn with his laurels budding upon his brow. But what are 
her feelings of agony when she reads the list of casualties, 
and finds that her faithful betrothed has crossed the river that 
divides the living from the dead? Yet she is sustained by the 
fact that her beloved one fell with his feet to the foe, and she 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


215 


submits to the terrible bereavement as one of the sacrifices of 
true patriotism. But now tell me, Emily, what will be the 
emotions of that maid whose lover dies, not with his country’s 
flag waving over him, but who, instead, takes a leap from the 
gibbet, struggles for a few seconds till the last gasp is over, 
and is then ignominiously buried, with his head to the north 
and his feet to the south? What consolation will such a 
maid have in this dread hour of trial? Do you think you 
are able to inform me?” 

“I tell you I will not answer your senseless questions,”* 
said Emily, seeing that Hallam paused, as if waiting for a 
reply. She spoke in a trembling voice, evincing a feeling of 
uneasiness she could not conceal. 

“ I might go on to illustrate my position more at large,” 
continued Hallam, “and prepare your mind for the reception 
of the news.” 

“We can dispense with further illustrations,” interrupted 
Emily. “You might proceed in this strain for hours, and I 
would be no better prepared; so you may just as well waive 
the remainder of your gibberish, and tell me to what all this 
is the prelude.” 

“Well, then, you are fully prepared to meet the shock? I 
am glad of it. So, then, I will enlighten you without any 
more ado.” He fastened his eyes on Emily’s face. “You 
recollect how you mocked and scoffed at me last night? You 
also recollect the vow I registered in heaven? Providence 
has answered my prayers. I have hunted this man Winston 
down; I have found him; I arrested him; I will make out 
the charges against him ;* I will furnish all the testimony in 
his case — I, yes, even 7, will do it all! Success will crown 
my wishes; and, as sure as we now breathe, your rebel lover 
shall hang by the neck, as a spy, till he is dead — dead — 
deadr 

Walter uttered these last expressions with as impressive an 


216 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


air as he could possibly assume, with the hope that it would 
hare the “desired effect.” It was with deep interest that 
he watched the varying hues that played over Emily’s coun- 
tenance, Judging from his previous conversation, he ex 
pected some tremendous outburst of grief and agony. When 
he repeated the three last words with solemn emphasis, he saw 
Emily’s bloodless lips slightly quiver, and an ashy color over- 
spread her face. But in a moment the expression changed, 
as her thoughts were transferred from the danger of Winston 
•to the malignity of Hallam. She saw it all now. Hallam 
had, indeed, hunted down her lover — had entrapped him — 
and was now glorying in his success; and then he had come 
to her, and had been cruelly tantalizing and teasing her for 
the last half hour, and was enjoying her confusion and dis- 
tress. The defects of his character were now made plain and 
patent; so she did not faint, as Walter expected, but she 
slowly rose from her seat and stood directly in front of him. 
The blood returned, and the veins swelled on her forehead; 
the dark eye fairly glowed, and, in appearance, emitted sparks 
from the raging fire within. It was like the first symptoms 
of a volcanic eruption. The slender form dilated, and the 
thin nostrils expanded. Walter looked upon this unexpected 
transformation with a species of fascination similar to that 
which causes the charmed bird to flutter briefly around the 
serpent’s head and then plunge into the very jaws of death 
He could not but think of what he had read in Grecian my- 
thology of the Erinnys, and he thought he saw before him 
the living embodiment of Tisiphone and Megara, and he 
absolutely quailed before the terrible ’expression which seemed 
to combine all the attributes of rage, hate, revenge, and wrath. 
And thus she stood, without speaking a word, for at least the 
space of half a minute. 

“Fiendish monster 1” said she, in a voice not “loud but 
deep.” “Spirit of Satan! Incarnation of malice! 0, that 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


217 


I could find one single term in the English language that 
would embrace all the epithets that villains deserve! For 
this act of dogging a man’s steps — a man before whom you 
cringed and whined like a whipped cur — a man whose gene- 
rosity spared your worse than worthless life — a man whom 
you would not dare to meet alone — a man from whom you 
would shrink and hide like a quaking poltroon — for your 
ungentlemanly, cruel, and dastardly attempt to trample upon 
and crush the bleeding bosom of a woman — yes, a woman — 
for you have not the courage, it is not in your nature, to 
tantalize any but a feeble woman or a helpless child — for all 
this may you suffer torments which I shudder to mention! 
May your own conscience lash and sting you till remorse 
loses its power only in the last convulsions of death, and you 
sink down in disgrace to the silent darkness of the tomb* 
May Grod forgive you, if a merciful heaven can overlook the 
enormity of your wickedness; but ask not me, a frail, weak 
creature of the dust. I hate you! 0 Grod! I despise the 
very soil your foot desecrates! You are no relation of mine 
from this time henceforth. 0, if I thought one single drop 
of your vile blood fiowed in my veins, I would sever all the 
arteries of life to let it out. I disown you forever! Never 
more come within my presence; never let me see your face 
again. Go, monster, go!” she pointed to the door. “Go, 
hide yourself, and repent in sackcloth and ashes. Leave 
me — leave me forever and forever T' She paused. 

Walter Hallam thought it best not to tamper with the fury 
of the tempest he had unexpectedly raised. He did not 
venture a word in reply, but rose with a look which evinced 
that the fearful imprecation of his cousin had not been totally 
thrown away. He left, and Emily stood alone. The un- 
natural excitement died away, and she threw herself upon 
a bed, weakened and prostrated by the subsiding of over- 
wrought feeling. If the reader be disposed to think that 


218 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Emily compromised her dignity and modesty by the utterance 
of the preceding anathema, we will not attempt to combat his 
position. It may have been rather unfeminine; but all mor- 
tals are sometimes thrown off their guard, no matter how 
thoroughly their tempers may be disciplined. Emily had 
temporarily lost control of herself, and she spoke the execra- 
tion in the exact words we have recorded. We have only 
this apology to make for this violent outburst of virtuous 
indignation: she was a woman of very enthusiastic, strong, 
and powerful emotion; therefore, some allowance must be 
made for the ebullition of her feelings, whether they be 
unlady-like or not. 

She lay motionless on the bed for nearly half an hour, then 
arose. Taking a seat, she kept perfectly still for several 
minutes. Her mind was deeply absorbed in thought. Sud- 
denly arising, as if her decision were made, she rang the bell 
and sent for her brother. Colonel Burrell soon made his 
appearance, and Emily closed the door behind him and locked 
it. , Drawing a chair close to her brother’s side, she spoke, but 
in such a low tone that her words reached only the Colonel’s 
ears. He started, and a shade of displeas^jre and vexation 
rested on his face. 

“ I am surprised at you, Emily,” he said. “ You appear to 
me to have lost your wits and all sense of propriety. Why, 
it is impossible for me to do what you ask — absolutely impos- 
sible. I wopld lose my reputation as a loyal soldier, and be 
false to my oath of allegiance.” 

“Then, brother, I will do it myself. I owe no allegiance to 
this wicked government, and I never will. If I am ever 
forced to swear fealty to any government, it is due to the 
Southern Confederacy, and I will cast my lot with the rebels.” 

“Hush, sister, hush!” said the Colonel, in a whisper. 
“You know not who may be listening to you; and, if you are 
reported to the authorities, you will take up lodgings in the 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


219 


Irving Block in spite of all I can do. I could not prevent it. 
You must beware how you talk. Bo you not know that there 
are detectives all over the town?” 

“If it were not for your sake, James, and I had the power, 
I would thunder forth my sentiments all over this continent, 
till every vale should ring and every hill should shake with 
the words of defiance. Even at Washington’s capitol trumpet- 
tongued treason should stand, with a brazen front, in the 
presence of Abraham Lincoln and all his host. I would 
shriek it in the ears of the hated old tyrant till his head 
would ache with the sound.” 

“If you will not hush, I will leave you. You will draw 
suspicion upon us both if you continue to talk thus.” And 
he arose. 

“Stay, brother, stay!” she cried, holding his arm. “I will 
hush — I will say no more about this; nor will I again ask you 
to do any thing which you think you ought not. But I will 
make one proposition which does not require you to act.” 

She lowered her voice to a whisper. The Colonel listened, 
and then put his hand to his forehead and studied for a 
moment. He saw that she was fully determined, and that 
she would attempt to accomplish her purpose alone if she 
could not persuade him to accompany her. He believed that 
she was essaying an impossibility, and that she would soon 
discover it. So he reluctantly agreed to what she proposed, 
and soon afterward left the apartment, with the promise of 
an early return. 


220 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

“A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon 
Than love that would seem hid.” 

When the shades of night had fully settled upon the earth, 
a lady, closely vailed, and a gentleman, were observed to leave 
the GUyoso in a carriage. It was Colonel Burrell and his 
sister. Not a word was spoken by either, but a profound 
silence was maintained until they arrived at the quarters of 
the Provost Marshal. Alighting, they rapped at the door, 
and fortunately found the officer at home. According to 
previous agreement, the Colonel was to say nothing, but was 
to leave Emily to manage her own affairs as she thought best. 
When they were seated, the Provost spoke: 

“Can I serve you in any way, sir?” 

“This lady wishes to see you,” replied Colonel Burrell, “on 
business of her own. I have simply escorted her to your 
quarters. She informed me that she desired a private inter- 
view with the Provost Marshal.” 

“I would say the hour for business has passed. You 
should have come to my office before night. 

“I am aware of that,” replied Emily, “but my. business is 
of such a character that I must see you alone. I could not 
do so conveniently during your office hours. Besides, it is in 
regard to an affair which does not come within the scope of 
your ordinary duties.” 

“ As you are a lady, I will for once violate my rules. I 
would not do it, though, for the transaction of ordinary busi- 
ness. If you will walk into the next room,” addressing the 
Colonel, “the lady’s interview can be private, as she wishes.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


221 


The Colonel accordingly did so, and Emily was left alone 
with the officer. She felt rather awkward from the strange- 
ness of her present position, hut it was now too late to falter. 
She knew not how to make a beginning; so she sat still until 
the Provost, seeing her embarrassment, encouraged her to 
proceed. 

“What business,” said he, “has procured me the honor of 
this call? In what way may I be of service?” 

“My mission is rather an extraordinary one, sir; and I 
hardly know how to broach the subject that weighs on my 
mind. But before I reveal the affair which brought me here, 
I must exact a promise of you that any thing I say will not 
be repeated to a third party, or made use of to my injury.” 

“I give you my honor,” said the Provost, “that nothing 
you may say shall ever go beyond the door, unless you choose 
to divulge it yourself” 

I demand no other pledge. But I must further request 
you not to take offense at any thing I may say in my present 
agitation and distress, or at least perplexity.” 

“ If that be all, lady, proceed. I would indeed be an ill- 
bred clown should I presume to manifest any feeling of dis- 
pleasure in the presence of so much beauty and intelligence.” 

“Well, then,” replied Emily, not noticing the compliment, 
“these preliminaries being settled, I am now forced to the 
necessity of stating my business here to-night, and why I have 
requested this interview.” She made a short pause, and then 

continued. “You have a prisoner confined” A deep 

blush of shame mantled her cheek, which, however, the officer 
did not observe, as she turned her head. 

“If I had not more than one,” replied the Provost, with a 
good-humored smile, “ my duties would be extremely light. I 
am so unfortunate as to be responsible for several hundred. 
So, if Madam, or Miss — I have not yet learned to whom I 
have the pleasure of speaking?” 


222 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“It matters not. My name or my condition would throw 
no light on the business that brought me here.” 

“Excuse me, lady, for asking a question which I, perhaps, 
had no right to propound. I must say, though, it is some- 
times pleasant to know the names of those with whom we are 
conversing. But just as you please. I do not insist upon an 
answer if the question is improper or irrelevant. But you 
were speaking of a prisoner.” 

“Yes, sir; of a prisoner who was apprehended to-day.” 
She paused. 

“I would suggest, lady, that if you are not more explicit, it 
will be impossible for me to form any idea, or even make a 
guess at the prisoner’s name, to whom you allude.” 

“ His name is — is Winston,” she said, in painful embarrass- 
ment. 

“Ah, yes; Winston, alias Jones; he seems to be known by 
more names than one. But what of him? Is he a relative 
of yours? and do you wish to see him?” 

“I came not here to make such a request; and I almost 
fear to tell you why I have come.” 

“Fear nothing, lady, but tell me at once the nature of your 
business. You must excuse me, if I inform you my time is 
not my own.” 

“Then, as your time is precious, I will be brief 0, sir, 
if you only knew what it costs me to speak, you would bear 
with my frailties and my woman’s weakness. But,” checking 
her rising emotions, “I will not encroach further upon your 
time by apologies for and explanations of feelings you are 
supposed to know nothing about. I came here, then, to pro-' 
cure this man’s release, if possible.” 

“Indeed; and how do you propose to do that?” 

“ I came here to find out that from you. He is in your 
power.” 

“You do not wish him to stand a trial, then?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


223 


^“No, sir— not if it can be prevented. I do not know what 
the charges against him are; but I want him released before 
the trial takes place.” 

“You must think the evidence is strong against him, then? 
Is the man your husband, or brother, that you take such a 
deep interest in his welfare?” 

“He i« neither the one nor the other; nor am I married at 
all, if your curiosity must be gratified.” 

“I beg your pardon, young lady. I did not mean to be 
rude or impudent; and if you will excuse me, I will ask no 
more questions concerning yourself . What is your proposition 
in regard to this man’s release? Am I to understand that you 
wish me to shoulder the responsibility of releasing him with- 
out the consent of other parties?” 

“Yes, sir; and I will otfer you any inducement — I will pay 
the gold till you are satisfied — I will” 

“Tempt me no more, lady,” quickly interrupted the Provost, 
“or you might make me forget my promise. I see how it is; 
you have come here to bribe me. So, to save multiplication 
of words on that subject, I will tell you now that that can not 
be done. If I could, without violence to. my conscience and 
duty, set him free at all, I would do it without pay. My own 
friendship for the very person of whom we are now speaking 
would be a greater inducement to me to forget what is due to 
my government than all the gold it is possible for you to lay 
before me. It is useless, therefore, to speak of bribery.” 

* “Is he, indeed, a friend of yours?” asked Emily, in trem- 
bling surprise, as she thought that if such were the case, the 
Provost might know more concerning her history than she 
expected. 

“ He is one to whom I am under lasting obligations.” 

“If such be the case, will you -make no effort to liquidate 
your obligations, when you have the opportunity?” 

“Now, lady, it is my time to be vexed,” replied the Provost, 


224 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


laughing, “for you are inquiring into aifairs. But I did 
not say that I would make no effort. I scarcely know what 
to do at present. No charges have been yet preferred, and I 
do not know exactly what evidence may be against him. His 
trial is to take place to-morrow or next day; but there is one 
way it can be prevented; and as you know more about the 
man than I do, and the parties opposed to him, you or your 
friends can try that, and it will relieve me of the necessity of 
making the effort you so much desire.” 

The Provost arose, and going to a desk opened a book and 
handed it to Emily, at the same time pointing with his finger 
to a certain passage. 

“You will see from that,” continued the officer, “that you 
or your friends can probably do more than I can.” 

“I do not clearly comprehend it,” said she, reading the 
passage. 

The Provost explained it to her satisfaction. 

“At what hour was he confined?” asked Emily. 

“ About eleven o’clock.” 

“And you say in twenty -four hours?” 

“ Yes, to-morrow, at twelve, say.” 

With this information Emily took her departure. As she 
and her brother were on their way back, the same silence was 
preserved, with the exception of a few remarks which may 
serve to show the workings of Emily’s mind. 

“Brother James,” said she, “I have one single request 
to make of you, and I do not want you to ask me why I 
make it.” 

“Well, let us hear it.” 

“I want you to detain Walter Hallam at the hotel to- 
morrow morning until nine o’clock. Allow him to leave 
under no pretense whatever. Will you do this small favor 
for me?” 

“For what purpose should I do this?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 225 

“I told you, brother, I did not wish you to ask me any 
questions or any reasons ” 

“Yes, I know you did; but you are always asking me to do 
things which my position will not allow.” 

“You need not fear; you can do this consistently.” 

“Very well; I will try, if it is any accommodation to you. 
I care not what may be your motive. Probably it would bo 
best for me not to know.” 

“Thank you, brother; it will be a kindness which will 
place me under additional obligations to you.” 

Not another word was exchanged until they arrived at the 
hotel ; soon after which the Colonel and his sister separated 
until the next morning ; but they were not the only parties 
interested in the spy’s destiny, who were busy under cover of 
darkness; for, while Emily was engaged with the Provost 
Marshal, Walter Hallam was walking in the direction of the 
building in which the prisoners were confined. Going to the 
officer in charge, he exhibited his pass, granting permission to 
visit the Yankee, Williams. The fellow was asleep when 
Hallam entered, but he was soon aroused. 

“lam told your name is Williams?” said Hallam. 

“An’ s’pose it is; what of that?” answered Williams, 
sulkily. 

“ If that is your name, you are in a perilous situation, Mr. 
Williams. I have heard the evidence in your case, and I 
make bold to say to you, you will hardly escape conviction.” 

“What do you tell me this fur? I don’t want any ov 
your Job’s comfortin’. If you ’re a priest, and can’t offer no 
better consolation than that, I ’d ruther you ’d a let me 
sleep on.” 

“I am no priest, Williams; but I have come to befriend 
you. I have learned that you are without friends, and, if you 
will allow it, I will be your friend. I can advise you in such 
a manner that you can easily r.id yourself of this difficulty.” 

16 


226 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“You’re one o’ them darned lawyers, then — fellers as 
would take the last shirt off yer back, promise to save yer 
neck, and then ’ll have you hung to git your breeches. No, 
siree, Mr. Tiawyer — can’t come that game over this chicken ; 
nary copper will you git out o’ me. I ’d like to know what ’d 
make you take sich an interest in me if you did n’t 
expect to git the tin for it? You’re no friend o’ mine; [ 
do n’t know you; an’, more ’n that, I do n’t care to know 
you. I can git plenty of lawyers when I need ’em; I do n’t 
like one that is so pushed fur business that he must come 
ov nights, and wake up honest men to have ’em hung or shot. 
They ’re the little pettifoggers.” 

“ You are very unjust, Williams, in your supposition. T 
am neither priest nor lawyer. You say I am no friend of 
yours. Well, now, I do n’t care a d — n. I would as lief you 
would be hanged as any body. If it were not for another 
fellow, whom I want punished, you might go to the devil for 
all I care, since you are so very suspicious.” 

“Now you begin to talk to the pint. But what have I got 
to do with this other fellow? What do you come to me fur?” 

“You have a good deal to do with him, sir; for you or 
this other fellow must be hanged. It remains with you to say 
which. You can take your choice.” 

“ Darned if I would n’t like to know what you mean.” 

“You know very well, Williams, what I mean. You know 
what you are guilty of JD(3 not try to deceive me.” 

“Look here, friend, you needn’t try to trap me in that 
way; you can’t do it. Not a word ’ll I say till I know what 
you are talking about. No, siree.” 

“I can be plain enough, if you wish it. Well, then, to the 
point. You are confined here on a charge of sinking the boat 
last night. That you will’ not deny. Now the testimony is 
strong against you. I have investigated your case thoroughly, 
and when your trial comes on, you will find that more evi- 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


227 


dence will be brought against you than you suspect. It will 
be sufficient to condemn and to hang you. There is a witness 
against you, Williams, that you do not dream of; and that 
very witness is doubtless more guilty than yourself.” 

“Who is that?” said Williams, quickly. “Is it Jones?” 

“Ah, well, I am glad to see you take a sensible view of the 
subject, and are willing to confess.” 

“No, but I haven’t confessed nothin’, though,” replied 
Williams, in some confusion. “Not a single word.” 

“If you have not, you soon will, when I tell you what this 
man is going to do. You and Jones sunk the boat last night; 
you can not deny it.” 

“But I ken, though, and I do deny it.” 

“ If you swear to such a thing, you will be guilty of per- 
jury. Now listen to me. You and Jones sunk the boat. 
This can be proved by very strong circumstantial evidence. I 
know all about this man Jones, and he has imposed on you. 
He is in the employ of the rebel government, and he bribed 
you in what you did.” 

“ How do you know he did?” asked Williams. 

“Jones has confessed it all, but in such a way as to throw 
all the guilt on you. As matters stand now, he will be cleared, 
and you will be hanged or shot.” 

“Jones has betrayed me, has he?” 

“Yes, he has; but you can save yourself yet, and I have 
come here to tell you how to .do it.” 

“An’ to git all ov my money fur it, too.” 

“No, d — n your money. I wouldn’t have a cent of it. 
This Jones is an enemy of mine, and I want him hanged in 
your place. You understand that, do you not?” 

“Yes; but how is it to be managed?” asked the frightened 
Yankee. - 

“ The easiest thing in the world. All you will have to do 
is to confess it to-night, and to appear as a witness against 


228 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Jones, who is the principal in this afiair. If you will do this^ 
you will get rid of this ugly scrape at once, and J ones will be 
made to suffer in your stead.” 

“How do you know this?” asked the hesitating Yankee. 

“Do I not know what the law is? If you care any thing 
for your personal safety, you will do as I tell you. If you 
wait till to-morrow, you will be hanged as sure as you are now 
alive; because Jones will appear against you. So, if you want 
to save yourself, the best thing you can do is to take my 
advice. I have not put myself to all this trouble because I 
have any particular friendship for you, but because I hate 
Jones. Were it otherwise, it would make no difference with 
me if you both should suffer the extreme penalty of the 
law.” 

“Let me see Jones by himself first,” said Williams. 

“You are a d — d fool, Williams. What do you wish to 
see Jones for? It is just as I tell you. It is impossible for 
you to see Jones; and, besides, you have already confessed it 
all to me.” 

“I ’ll be darned if I have confessed any thing.” 

“I will be d — d if you have not, though, and I will swear 
it before the court-martial; then both of you will go up to- 
gether. But I will not bandy words with you if you will not 
let me befriend you. You have said enough to convict your- 
self and Jones too. Just so he suffers, I would as soon as 
not you should bear him company;” and Walter turned as if 
he were about to leave. 

“Come back — come back,” cried Williams. 

“Well, what do you want?” said Walter. “I have no time 
to trifie with you. Say what you want, quick.” 

“What is it you want me to do? How am I to save my- 
self?” 

“You will have to make a written confession here to-night, 
in the presence of witnesses. That is all.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


229 


“You can’t make a feller a witness against himself?” 

“No, I do not want you to criminate yourself. Tell merely 
what part Jones had in the affair.” 

“Will that clear me? Are you sure?” 

“If you do it,” said Hallam, “I swear on the Bible you 
will be free as soon as the trial comes on.” 

“Fix up the document, then,” said Williams, after a mo- 
ment’s hesitation. 

This Walter soon did. He took down Williams’s state- 
ment in the presence of two witnesses, read it aloud, and the 
Yankee attached his signature. Hallam then carefully put 
the manuscript in his pocket and returned to his hotel. 

“I have him now,” said he to himself, on the way. “There 
is no possible chance for him to escape. If he gets rid of the 
first charge, which I think quite a difficult matter, the de- 
struction of the boat will do the work for him. I will risk 
the elegant maledictions of my furious cousin, who disowns 
me in such a graceful manner.” And he chuckled as he 
wended his way along the streets. 

Walter had not more than fairly gained the street before 
the Provost Marshal entered the building Hallam had just 
left. This officer was in the habit of visiting the prison very 
frequently at night, and his entrance, therefore, excited no 
surprise in the minds of the guard. As soon as he was 
within doors, he went to the apartment in which Henry Win- 
ston was confined, and found the spy pacing up and down 
the fioor. 

“I think we have met before, Mr. Winston, or Jones, or 
whatever your name may be,” said the Provost. 

“ The occasion upon which we met was probably calculated 
to make a deeper inipression upon your mind than mine. I, 
however, recollect your face perfectly, though I know not 
your name.” 

“You left so suddenly that I had no time to tell my name. 


230 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


nor even to thank you for your timely interference in my be- 
half. You are now aware that I am provost marshal of this 
city. I knew your face the moment I cast my eyes on you. 
I have frequently wondered why you left me so abruptly after 
shooting the two villains who were on the point of murdering 
me. Gratitude demands that I should make you a suitable 
return. I am sofry that I find you in a situation where you 
will need the assistance of a friend, though I presume, from 
certain indications, you are not totally without friends.” 

“I know not,” said Winston, in surprise, “what indications 
can form the basis of such a presumption; for if I have a 
single friend in this city, I am not aware of it.” 

“Indeed! I am surprised at that; for there is one who 
seems to be deeply interested in your fate; in truth, she is so 
greatly concerned that she would unhesitatingly sacrifice her 
allegiance to the government for your salvation. But I speak 
too fast, for I do not know that she regards her homage as 
due to the government I have the honor to serve.” 

“She!” said the spy, with a brightening face. “I am to 
understand, then, that it was a lady? Will you be so kind 
as to tell me the name of this unknown well-wisher?” 

“That I am not able to do. She refused to reveal her 
name, from motives of delicacy, perhaps, for she told me that 
she was unmarried. But you should call her something more 
than a well-wisher. She is a doer; and left my ofl&ce a short 
time since, intending to act upon a suggestion of mine, which 
may set you at liberty without a trial. I hope she may be 
successful ; but if she should not be,” continued the Provost, 
closely scrutinizing the features of the spy, “how can I repay 
a portion of my debt of gratitude, without violence to my 
duties as a military officer?” 

Winston cast upon the officer one of those proud looks — a 
look “that laughed the petty attributes of rank to scorn” — and 
then slowly replied: 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. * 


231 


“I understand the hint perfectly, Captain. This precaution 
would have been entirely unnecessary had you been better ac- 
quainted with the person to whom you are now -talking. Take 
me not, sir, for one of those timid, weak-hearted creatures who 
would tarnish the honor of all his friends rather than bear the 
burden of his own actions. I consider you under no obli- 
gations. And if I were on the brink of a- precipice, with cer- 
tain death staring me in the face, I would die, sir, before I 
would beg your assistance, merely because I had done you a 
little favor, and remind you of obligations which the golden 
rule annuls. I have always endeavored to do unto my fellow- 
creatures as I would have them do to me, leaving it to heaven 
to reward the action. So I have no favor whatever to ask. 
Your debt of gratitude, as you please to call it, is already dis- 
charged. Do whatever you may consider to be your duty. If 
you are disposed to feel grateful for the preservation of your 
life, at the time to which you allude, return your thanks to 
God, in whose hands I was only an instrument. I assure you 
I claim nothing at your hands. So, do your whole duty; and 
if I fall a victim to the vengeance of military law, God, I 
trust — I know — will reward all deeds of mine which Holy 
Writ declares to be meritorious.” 

The Provost Marshal was moved with mixed feelings of 
sorrow and admiration. The spy had made a deeper impres- 
sion on the mind of his auditor by thus disclaiming all merit 
for a former service, than he could possibly have done by 
demanding from the officer a return of the favor as a meed 
justly due. 

“I am sorry to hear you talk thus,” replied the officer. 
•‘You speak as if you were guilty of some crime which the 
law severely punishes. I hope such is not the case. But upon 
this point it would be ungenerous in me to ask you questions. 
I seek to know no more at present. But if I can do you any 
little favor in your unpleasant position, do not hesitate to ask 


232 


TJIE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


it. I must leave you now. Good night.” And the Provost 
warmly grasped his hand, and then retired. 

“I can not imagine,” thought the spy, as soon as the officer 
had gone, “who this lady is. It can not be Emily, for she is 
married; or if she be not, I can not account for the fact of her 
traveling alone with such a man as Hallam and — is it not 
strange that I have never discovered the name of this other 
gentleman? Well, no matter; it can make but little difference 
with me. She is lost to me. And if she is interesting her- 
self in my case, it is merely the recompense of a grateful 
heart. It may be, too, some warm lady friend of the South, 
who is attempting thus to serve her country.” And with this 
last thought, he dismissed the subject from his mind, and laid 
himsejf down upon his couch, where he slept till the sunbeams 
of next morning were struggling to enter his narrow prison - 
cell. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


233 


CHAPTER XVIL • 


*‘He that hath nature in him must be grateful; 

’Tis the Creator’s primary great law 

That links the chain of beings to each other.” 

% 

Colonel Burrell, in accordance with his promise to his 
sister, detained Walter Hallam at the hotel the next morning. 
He had no difficult task to perform, however, for Walter ap- 
peared in no way uneasy, and evinced no disposition whatever 
to change his locality. The Cglonel was not acquainted with 
any of his sister’s plans or arrangements; so he did not at- 
tempt to watch the motions or proceedings of Hallam, and 
only considered himself bound to detain Walter at the hotel 
until the hour of nine arrived. Hallam had early that morn- 
ing written a letter, as the Colonel supposed, about the con- 
tents of which he did not make a single inquiry. After this 
document was dispatched, he made no objection to any dis- 
position of the time the Colonel proposed. 

“May I ask, Walter,” said Colonel Burrell, in the course of 
the morning, “what your intentions are in regard to this man 
Winston? I understand he is in arrest.” 

“Certainly, sir; there is no secret about it. All I intend 
to do is to prefer the charges against him, and then let him 
take the consequences of the law. The penalty can not be 
any thing short of death. There is too much proof of his 
guilt. He it was who sunk the gun-boat; this will be proved 
beyond all dispute. You yourself saw him on the battle-field 
of Corinth; therefore, you know he is a rebel; and you will, 
doubtless, be summoned as a witness to establish this fact." 


234 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“If I am,” said the Colonel, showing symptoms of rising 
anger, “ I shall not obey the summons.” 

“You will not? And why, pray?” 

“Because, sir, I feel myself under some obligations to this 
man, whatever may be his crime.” 

“Suppose you should, have you not also a duty to per- 
form to your country? You see what he has already done. 
If he is . suffered to run at • large in that style, there is no 
accounting for the damage he may do. I think, sir, your 
duty to your country should overrule all considerations of 
a private nature.” 

The Colonel, as the reader has already discovered, was a 
man who, when once his opinion was made up, did not particu- 
larly care to investigate the grounds of his belief Mingled, 
also, with his rather profane -feelings were some redeeming 
qualities. Among these was a nice sense of honor. He would 
have died before he would have committed an action contrary 
to the dictates of his honor. So when Walter, who was under 
considerable obligations to the Colonel for the exercise of his 
political influence, commenced to persuade him to do that 
which honor and gratitude suggested he ought not to do, it 
nettled his feelings, and he replied, in rather rough and pro- 
fane language: 

“B — n it, Walter, do not talk to me thus, and attempt to 
persuade me to a thing I will not do. Had it not been for 
that man, my sister’s body would have floated down the Mis- 
sissippi Biver.” 

“You would better say, had that man not been aboard, your 
sister never would have been in any danger. He is undoubt- 
edly a spy of the most diabolical cast.” 

“I care not what the h — 11 he is, sir. This much I do 
know; the boat was sunk, and I was powerless to save Emily, 
and Winston rescued her from the waters; and, more than 
that, would not receive the large reward I promised. And 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


285 


now you would have me turn against her benefactor, and 
assist to take away his life. Should I do it, 1 hope h — 11 
might open and swallow me up alive,” he said, giving the 
table a tremendous rap with his fist. “I tell you now, you 
need not put my name as a witness to your charges. If you 
are determined this man’s life shall be taken, his blood shall 
not be on my hands.” 

“I am willing,” replied Hallam, “to shoulder the whole 
responsibility in this matter; for I feel that I am discharging 
a sacred duty to my country. Your name, however, shall not 
appear in the charges, if you do not wish it. The evidence 
I have already obtained will be, I think, sufficient. It will 
doubtless hang him, and that is all I want to make sure of.” 

“I fear. Captain Hallam, you are laboring more for the 
gratification of your revengeful feelings than for any particu- 
lar good you expect to accrue to your beloved country,” said 
the Colonel, in a tone of irony. “ I never knew you before to 
undertake any thing with such decidedly religious zeal. You 
may not be to blame, however, for it must be rather disagree- 
able and unpleasant to have an enemy in the world whom you 
may meet at any time and in any crowd. It becomes doubly 
so when that enemy is so unceremonious and uncivil as to lay 
one fiat on his back, and deliver a lecture which one would 
not desire all the world to hear.’’ 

Walter reddened at this cutting speech; but he did not wish 
to lose the Colonel’s influence. He, therefore, replied in lan- 
guage which he probably would have scorned to use had their 
relations been different. But Walter remembered this cut for 
many months afterward. 

“I think, sir, as you were an eye-witness of the scene to 
which you allude, you might do me justice. I was laboring 
under several disadvantages. My strength was almost ex- 
hausted by the unusual exercise of swimming the Mississippi 
River on a cool, dark night. I was, therefore, in no condi- 


236 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


tion for the vulgar practice of pugilism. I do not believe in 
«uch a barbarous custom. Powder and lead are the mate- 
rials which gentlemen prefer.” 

“Yes; but,” said the Colonel, “I thought you said that you 
did not consider him a gentleman.” 

“That is true, sir — I did say it; nor do I consider him one 
now. I am sure he has never done any thing since our first 
difficulty to give me a higher opinion of the exalted virtues 
you seem to discover in him. But, then, there are some in- 
sults which level all distinctions of caste temporarily, and 
which a man can not overlook without lowering himself in 
the world’s estimation. I am, therefore, forced by the code 
of honor to waive considerations of this character; .and I 
should be willing to meet him as an equal and a gentleman, 
until he should be punished for his impudence.” 

“Or until you should be chastised for your temerity,” re- 
marked the Colonel, who generally said pretty much what he 
pleased to Walter; “but I suppose you will not allow him 
that privilege now, will you?” 

“ Of course not ; I could not do it if I so desired. He is 
now in the hands of the military authorities, and when they 
are through with him, he will be in no condition to accept a 
challenge. If he should happen, possibly, to disprove the 
charges against him, which I know he can not do, then it will 
be time enough to settle our personal difficulties.” 

“But, according to your own showing, he has no chance for 
his life, and can never meet you in personal combat.” 

“ I can not help that, sir. He has laid himself liable to 
the law, and he must abide the consequences.” 

At this point the conversation was interrupted by the en- 
trance of a waiter, who announced that he had a note for 
Captain Hallam. Walter received it and perused its contents. 
It was a solicitation from Emily that he would meet her in 
the parlor. He lost no time in complying with this, to him, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


287 


strange and novel request. After informing the Colonel 
where he was going, he hastened into the parlor, where he 
found Emily. 

“You may think this rather a strange proceeding on my 
part, Walter, after what I said to you yesterday,” said Emily, 
as Hal lam entered the parlor and seated himself 

“I confess my surprise, after listening to the beautiful and 
graceful epithets you applied to me, and the lady-like curses 
you imprecated on my head. I shall, however, leave it to you 
to explain this sudden change in your feelings.” 

“ I desire to make an apology for my rudeness. Will you 
forgive me for my conduct yesterday?” 

“I will, upon one condition; which is, that I am not again 
to be blessed with a repetition of yesterday’s scene.” 

“I think I had some little cause to be angry, when you 
were attempting to tease me for half an hour together, and to 
frighten me by hints in regard to something T could not 
understand. You have certainly found out, by this time, 
that I am not destitute of temper. Indeed, I have more 
probably than a woman ought to have, and sometimes it is 
impossible for me to control it.” 

“I should like to know what fortunate event has wrought 
this wonderful revolution in your feelings. You disowned 
me yesterday — pronounced a withering curse upon me, and 
spurned me from your presence. And now, to-day, you are 
all smiles. Is there any particular favor you desire to ask? 
or is this unexpected turn really the result of true repent- 
ance?” 

“I have no favor whatever to ask,” she replied. “Will 
you not allow me the privilege of offering an apology for a 
rudeness committed in the heat of passion? And when I 
make such a statement, is it not sufficient, and ought you not 
to accept it, without requiring me to give a minute history of 
the process by which it was brought about? You might do 


238 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


me the justice to suppose that my case is not out of the line 
of the experience of ordinary mortals.” 

“The truth is, Emily, I never know how to take you; you 
turn from white to black, and from black to white, so often. I 
never know when to expect sunshine or tempest. You rail at 
me sometimes when I do not expect it; and then you apolo- 
gize when I have fortified myself to receive your eloquent 
maledictions with proper dignity.” 

“Is that the case on the present occasion?” 

“I can not say that it is, or it is not. I knew that you had 
no right to drag or decoy me in your presence for the purpose 
of re-cursing me. I could not think you would dare to do 
this — especially after I had tacitly agreed to your desired dis- 
ruption of our friendship, and your annulment of ties which 
no human power can destroy. I came, I may say, prepared 
for any thing that might ‘ turn up.’ ” 

Emily, who was not particularly anxious to dwell longer on 
this topic, now changed the theme of conversation, with the 
usual tact of woman. Her manner considerably puzzled Wal- 
ter. He could see plainly that her words were uttered with 
constraint, and in a manner contradictory to her actions. He 
could not divine her motives. He thought, and rightly, too, 
that this unexpected turn in affairs was not the result of any 
desire on her part to renew their former doubtful friendship. 
He therefore awaited the denouement with patience, feeling cer- 
tain that Emily had some other object in view than a mere 
apology for her rudeness on the day before. Emily proposed 
a game of chess, and Hallam readily assented. While they 
were engaged in this interesting and absorbing amusement, ten 
o’clock came, and then eleven. Still they played on, and at 
last the hour of one arrived. Emily’s object was now accom- 
plished — at least, partially — that is, as far as the detention of 
Hallam contributed to its achievement. Announcing that she 
was tired of the game, and being desirous, woman-like, to 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 239 

know if she had been successful in her ru&e^ she began to 
question Walter. 

“ I am afraid I have caused you to neglect your business 
this morning, have I not?” 

“Not that I am aware of,” replied Walter, with a look of 
inquiry, caused by the tone and manner of Emily’s question. 

“Are you sure you have neglected nothing?” 

“I am certain of it.” 

“Think again. I am afraid I have detained you too long.” 

“Not the first thing. But, see here, I would like to know 
what you mean by such pointed interrogations? I confess, 
your manner all the morning has been puzzling to me. Your 
words and actions are somehow incompatible. In fact, this 
whole proceeding appears rather extraordinary. You ask if I 
have neglected any of my affairs, just like your life or your 
salvation is dependent upon my negligence.” 

“The reason I ask is, because the idea has just struck me 
that there was something which required your attention this 
morning.” 

“What is that, pray?” 

“Have you not forgotten to prefer charges against your 
prisoner?” she asked, with a curious blush. 

“And suppose I have; what of that?” 

“Is it not too late now?” 

Walter made no reply for the space of a minute. He now 
saw clearly why Emily had been so anxious to keep him inter- 
ested at the hotel. She had apologized merely that she might 
detain him, and cause him to forget the trial. 

“You have played your part finely, my dear cousin,” replied 
Walter, with a laugh, in which slight mockery could be dis- 
covered. “You would make a most excoWent diplomat. I 
think I see now why you have been so exceedingly kind and 
entertaining all the morning. Since I refiect, there is a para- 
graph in the regulations, which says, that if charges are not 


240 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


preferred against a prisoner within twenty-four hours after his 
confinement, he shall be set at liberty. Our friend Winston 
was put in prison yesterday, about ten or eleven o’clock. It is 
now,” continued Walter, looking at his watch with provoking 
deliberation, “ it is now after one. So by this time he may be 
six or eight miles from the city.” 

Emily was completely surprised and nonplused by Walter’s 
coolness. 

“There is one thing, I fear,” continued Hallam, slowly, 
“you have overlooked; which is, that the clause in question 
is applicable to Federal prisoners only. Of course, a spy 
would not be released if charges were not preferred in twenty- 
four hours.” 

Emily’s face brightened, as she thought that Walter was 
relying solely on the fact he had just stated for the safety of 
his prisoner. 

“But it is not known,” said she, in answer to Walter, “that 
he is a spy, as you assert.” 

“ How do you know it is not?’ 

“I had it from authority competent to act in the case.” 

“So, that is where you went last night, is it? You think 
you have outgeneraled me, do you? Why, even if he were 
at liberty, he could again soon be apprehended. He can not 
have gone far. Are you sure he is free?” 

“You had better go and see.” 

“No, I am perfectly satisfied he is safe. I shall not trouble 
myself at all about it. I know the authorities are not such 
fools as to turn that man loose, with the plain proofs of his 
guilt.” 

“The Provost Marshal informed me that he would be re- 
leased at eleven o’clock if the charges are not brought for- 
ward.” 

“He did, eh? Well, I will warrant that if you will go to a 
certain room in the Irving Block, there you will find Mr. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


241 


Winston. Do you think I would allow myself to be outwitted 
by a mere school-girl, who has relied for the success of her 
plans upon a most trivial technicality? The Provost can have 
no possible excuse for his action, should he do as you desire.” 

“Nevertheless, he may have done it.” 

“I am sorry, since we are now good friends, that your 
hopes are doomed to disappointment. When I tell you the 
whole truth, I can hardly expect to retain your favor. I do 
not generally transact my business by halves. So, if you are 
trusting for the salvation of your very particular friend to my 
remissness of duty, you are relying upon a broken reed. 
Your ingenious ruse has completely failed; for I made out the 
charges this morning, and they are now in the hands of the 
proper authorities. Our friend is, therefore, doubtless in the 
Irving Block. I am looking now every minute for a summons 
to attend the trial.” 

Poor Emily had had all her trouble for nothing; for it was 
as Walter had said, and the disappointment sank deep in her 
heart. Hallam would undoubtedly have beheld yesterday’s 
scene re-enacted, had not Emily felt herself under some obli- 
gation to restrain her feelings. 

“I am very sorry,” continued Hallam, “that you have put 
yourself to so much trouble and inconvenience. But, my dear 
cousin, you did not expect to outwit me by such child’s play, 
did you? The next time you undertake to play against me, 
you must study better the premises upon which you act. But 
never mind; if you have failed this time, you may be more 
successful the next. Every dog has his day, you know. 
However, I will say no more about it, as we are good friends.” 

“We Tiever can be friends,” replied Emily, in a choking 
voice. 

“Come, now, cousin, you will undo all your pretty apology. 
You forget that you sent for me. You have no right, then, 
to curse me again. Even if you did, this is no place for the 

If) 


242 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


display of such a lady-like accomplishment. I did not seek 
to make up our little quarrel. It was all your work. I 
would suggest the propriety of not widening too much the 
breach between us, as it might possibly be necessary on some 
future occasion to solicit my good will, when any of your 
friends are in danger. You are not a very shrewd diplomat. 
You ought to have kept me in ignorance of the fact that you 
were foiled in your schemes. I am sure, if you had said 
nothing, I never would have suspected the sincerity of your 
apology. But women can not keep secrets. It is a wonder 
that you had not told me two hours earlier than you did. 
You wanted to enjoy your triumph too soon; and you ex- 
pected to see me overwhelmed with surprise and rage. But 
your weapons have recoiled upon your own head. There is 
another thing yet; do you know I can have you arrested^ were 
I so disposed, for your disloyalty? It is a good thing for you 
that the prisoner did not escape. For if he had, and you had 
rejoiced over it, I do not know what I might have been 
tempted to do.” 

Emily did not venture to reply to these last remarks of 
Hallam. Rising, with a full heart, she left the parlor without 
uttering a word. She retired, crest-fallen, to her room, in a 
state of feeling that may be easily imagined. Walter sat for 
a few moments reflecting; but he was soon notified to appear 
before the court-martial sitting on Winston’s case. 

The result of this trial may be summed up in a few words. 
Two witnesses appeared against the prisoner — Hallam and 
Williams. The former testified that he had once captured 
the prisoner, who belonged to the rebel army, and that since 
he had seen him twice within the Federal lines, acting in all 
respects as a Union soldier. Williams made a full confession 
in regard to the destruction of the gun-boat, relating the con- 
versation which took place between himself and the prisoner 
on the night of the catastrophe. As Winston, of course, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


243 


could make no defense, and all the evidence being against 
him, he was, in a very brief space of time, convicted and con- 
demned to be executed as a spy. Courts-martial are much 
less merciful than civil tribunals; they care nothing for the 
soul of a victim. Our reader will not be surprised, therefore, 
to learn that Winston was informed, before he returned to 
prison, that the hour for his execution would be on the next 
day at eleven o’clock. This is the way the Yankees did busi- 
ness while the war was in progress. 

Our hero was reconducted to the prison, and, as he saw no 
prospect of escape, began making immediate preparations for 
his approaching death. There were few ties to bind the spy 
to this earth. Beyond the natural desire to live, implanted in 
every human heart, there were few inducements to make the 
prolongation of life desirable. His life never had been happy. 
Disappointments had embittered his existence since the days 
of childhood. All of his relatives had gone down to the re- 
publio of dust and ashes, and he was destined soon to follow. 
He cared not. He had nothing to live for except to serve his 
country. He felt that if it should be the will of the Al- 
mighty that his days should be few, he would bow with sub- 
mission. He did not consider the loss of his life as any 
very great sacrifice upon the altar of southern independence. 
Could he have that night raised the vail of futurity, and have 
foreseen beyond the possibility of a doubt that the freedom of 
the Confederacy would be established, he would have welcomed 
death with all his grim horrors; for he thought that when 
peace should finally come, bringing joy to millions of suffering 
hearts, amid all this rejoicing he would be in the crowd, but 
not of the crowd. It might be for the best, then, that he 
should die now, and leave a world in which he had never 
found any thing but mental suffering. His whole life had 
been but a series of melancholy events. He had never 
known a mother’s love nor a father’s care; no brother nor 


ti44 


THE CONFEDERATE SFY. 


sister had ever with him roamed the hills; an orphan he had 
lived, unpitied on the earth. Once a gleam of sunshine 
played over his darkened pathway, but it was only for a mo- 
ment. Those few brief moments constituted the only bright 
spot of his whole career; they were the only green oases in 
the past. He could, indeed, exclaim, in the language of 
Moore : 

‘**Twas ever thus: from childhood’s hour 
I’ve seen my fondest hopes decay j 
I never loved a tree or flower, 

But ’twas first to fade away.” 

Why then should he care for death? It was about ten o’clock 
that night, and Winston heard his prison door open. The 
Provost Marshal stood before him. 

“I am sorry, Mr. Winston,” said the officer, after the cus- 
tomary salutation, “to see one to whom I owe so much in 
this situation.” 

“Do not commence to pity me in that manner. Captain,” 
said Winston, interrupting him. “I do not see what you ex- 
pect to gain by mentioning what you owe, unless you choose 
thus to discharge your debt by continually reminding me of 
it, and expressing your sense of the obligation. To one in 
my condition, thanks are needless and useless. I told you 
last night I had no favor to ask, neither have I any now ; so, 
if you please, do not revert to this subject again. ” 

“Are you a Mason, Mr. Winston?” 

“I am,” was the response. And in a few seconds the two 
men knew that they both belonged to the great fraternity 
which has dilOfused untold blessings even in the remotest cor- 
ners of the earth. 

“I can now no longer hesitate, my brother. My obliga- 
tions are double. I therefore offer you your liberty.” 

“ Our order. Captain, does not require us to make such sac- 
rifices of principle.” 


245 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 

“I have been hesitating some time whether to do violence 
to my allegiance or my conscience. After carefully weighing 
both sides of the question, I have come to the deliberate con- 
clusion that the law of nature and the requirements of grati- 
tude are higher than the demands of loyalty. Since, in addi- 
tion to this, I find you to be a brother of the mystic tie, my 
resolution is confirmed. You must allow me to think, though, 
I am extending that charity to a distressed brother which our 
sacred institution enjoins. I can then give you your freedom 
the more cheerfully.” 

“Think as you please, Captain; I shall certainly accept 
your kind ofifer. I see in it too plainly the hand of Provi- 
dence, not to avail myself of the means of escape. But still 
I will reject the offer if your own life is jeopardized by your 
kindness; that would be too great a stretch of charity.” 

“Give yourself no uneasiness on my account. But we must 
talk no longer. Here is a key which unlocks your door, and 
here is a Federal uniform. You know how to use both. 
About midnight you can make your escape. When you come 
out, leave the key in the door. I hope you may be success- 
ful; but before we part, let me remind you of one thing: if 
you are again apprehended within the Federal lines, I will not 
be able to favor you to such an extent. Farewell.” 

Winston warmly thanked the officer, who immediately left 
the prison. The spy was soon in darkness, and kept still 
until the appointed hour arrived. When the hour of twelve 
approached, he cautiously arose and opened the door. 
Taking up a musket which had been pointed out by the 
Provost, he easily made his way out as one of the guard. 
Once out, he did not consume much time in widening the 
distance between himself and Memphis. At daylight the 
next morning he was in no danger of pursuit, but was still 
rapidly making his way in the direction of the Confederate 
lines. 


246 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Early the following morning it was known throughout 
the city that the spy was gone. It was reported that some 
secessionist had furnished him with a key to his prison door. 
All search proved in vain. Emily was greatly rejoiced, and 
Hallam smothered his rage as well as be could. That same 
day Colonel Burrell, Emily, and Walter took the boat for 
Washington City; and here for the present leaving them, we 
will follow the footsteps of the spy. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


247 


CHAPTER XYIII. 

^‘Murder most foul, as in the best it is; 

But this most foul, strange, and unnatural,” 

A SHORT time after the events narrated in the preceding 
chapter, Henry Winston might have been seen in a building 

rather dangerous for a spy, in the city of . He was 

busily engaged writing among the adjutants and clerks of 
one whom we will distinguish, for obvious reasons, by the 
name of General Robespierre. How he came to be in such a 
strange and unusual position is not known ; but one thing is 
certain — Henry Winston, a rebel of the deepest dye, was a 
clerk for the most cruel, despotic, vindictive officer that could 

be found in the Yankee army. The people of will long 

remember with feelings of horror the numberless indignities, 
insults, and abuses heaped, with inhuman malice and with 
hellish delight, upon all who were in the most distant manner 
connected with the cause of the Confederates. Female honor 
and delicacy and childish helplessness were no more regarded 
than if modern civilization had been utterly ignored, and its 
place usurped by the barbarism of the darkest ages. Abu- 
Bekr and Atilla were saints compared with General Robes- 
pierre — the personification of all the low, abject, grovelling 
passions of human nature. An assumed zeal in the cause of 
his country was a mere pretext for the gratification of a 
malignant disposition, which loved misery for the pleasure 
it afibrded his own vile, unnatural heart. With truth did 
Madame Roland, standing upon a scaffold erected during the 
stormy days of the French revolution, exclaim: “0, liberty! 
how many crimes are committed in thy name!” Many a 


248 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


sufferer in the city of might have uttered the same ex- 

clamation during the still darker days of the American revo- 
lution of 1861. The French revolution produced Maximilian 
Robespierre, whose name has been handed down as synony- 
mous with tyrant. But some excuse can be found for his 
atrocity in the fact that he, depraved as he was, was urged on 
by a mob of enthusiastic fanatics, who clamored for innocent 
blood. But what apology can be made for the American 
Robespierre, who had all the infernal passions of his French 
namesake without the one thousandth part of his' intellect? 

Reader, this is no caricature; it is a very brief sketch of 
the true character of a living fiend in human shape. There 
is but one man in the United States who will answer to this 
description, and the true name of that one no person can be 
at a loss to imagine. So we will proceed. 

One day, when this vile monster had gone out, and Winston 
happened to be left alone in his private office, a most ungov- 
ernable curiosity seized him to examine Robespierre’s desk. 
The day before the spy had seen him busily engaged writing 
an epistle, which he accidentally discovered was addressed to 
President Lincoln. Winston felt what in “the piping times 
of peace” would have been deemed a most impertinent and 
unjustifiable curiosity to see this document, over which he 
had seen Robespierre studying and poring for several hours. 
So to the desk he went, and, searching eagerly among the 
papers of the inhuman wretch, found the much wished-for 
composition. Without further ceremony he sat down at the 
desk and read the letter to the end. An observer could have 
known that the document was an extraordinary one, by watch 
ing the spy’s countenance, which turned red and pale as the 
various and conflicting emotions of anger, fear, indignation, 
and sympathy worked on his palpitating heart. And well 
might he tremble when the safety of his country was im- 
periled. For cold-blooded atrocity and inhuman villainy, a 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


249 


more diabolical composition could not have emanated from the 
brain of a fiend. The proposition it contained was like the 
forbidden tale of Hamlet’s ghost, 

“Whose lightest word 

Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; 

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start frooi their spheres; 

Thy knotted and combined locks to part, 

And each particular hair to stand on end 
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine.” 

History will never show a darker page than that upon 
which this famous letter is recorded, which, had it not been 
for the spy, would have been hidden among other unknown 
crimes clandestinely committed by the agents of the United 
States Government. We feel bound to give it to the reader 
entire, as it was read by Henry Winston. 

As we have already stated, it was addressed to President 
Lincoln, and then proceeded as follows: 

Your excellency’s favor reached me a day or two since. I pe- 
rused it with an unusual degree of interest, as it was partly 
devoted to the discussion of a subject upon which I have re- 
flected anxiously for some time past. My mind is now, however, 
made up, and I do not hesitate to say that your proposition in 
regard to the treatment of the rebels is, I think, entirely too 
lenient and merciful. I have endeavored to study the character 
of this southern people, and if my opinions, based upon per- 
sonal observation, are correct, they are a stubborn, proud, high- 
minded, obstinate race. The educated slaveholder is character- 
ized by a contemptible hauteur^ which would cause him to spurn 
any offers of peace except upon the basis of a separate nation- 
ality. This class, I find, controls public sentiment in the South. 
Therefore, by treating these people with kindness, leniency, and 
respect, and by offering a general amnesty for past offenses, 
upon the condition of a return into the Union, you would not 
only compromise the dignity of your high position, but would 
create in their minds an idea of our inability to achieve our ob- 
ject; and thus you prolong the struggle to an indefinite extent. 

The wall of this people’s pride can never be broken down by 


250 


THE CONFEDERATE SFY. 


kind treatment.* They hate the Union; they despise the time- 
honored flag under whose protecting folds they have lived and 
prospered for the last eighty years. I am hated ; you are hated ; 
in short, the whole northern race is hated, with all appertaining 
to it, and is cursed and execrated with a malignity and bitter- 
ness truly astonishing. This feeling of malice extends to the 
women and children, and, in numerous instances, to the silly 
negro, whose freedom is at the bottom of the contest. Conse- 
quently I have had to rule here with a rod of iron. By way of 
parenthesis, I hope your excellency will consider it as a proof of 
my zeal in the cause of liberty and truth, that I am known 
throughout the South by the rather unenviable name of “Robes- 
pierre, the !” Sometimes I think the whole vile race, ne- 

groes and all, will have to be exterminated utterly before the 
Union can be restored. 

The negro is a strange animal. It is impossible to make him 
appreciate the advantages of liberty, or even understand them^ 
The boon of freedom, for which a white man would shed his 
blood and give up his life, has no charms whatever for the negro. 
Born and bred a slave, his mind early receives an idea of infe- 
riority, and of incapacity to pursue any of the common avoca- 
tions of life upon his own individual responsibility. He moves 
only as he is moved upon. Those who have fled to us for protec- 
tion, and have joined our standard, have done so, I am persuaded, 
under mistaken notions and ideas. They look upon the North 
as a kind of El Dorado — a land flowing with wine, milk, and 
honey, and think that when they once get to a free state there 
is no further necessity of labor. 

As to the abstract idea of freedom and independence, to which 
a white man will cling even unto death, and which would cause 
his form to dilate with pride, though he should beg his bread, 
and hide his nakedness with rags, they have no correct, no defi- 
nite idea. It is impossible to force into the negro’s dull mind the 
nobleness and sublimity of such a principle. He would sell his 
birthright for a mess of pottage without reflection, and barter 
his freedom for a dram without sorrow. I confess my mind has 
undergone a change in regard to the blacks. I have been 
grievously disappointed in my expectations. I calculated that 
wherever our victorious banner should appear, the negroes would 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


251 


rise up, murder their masters, flock by thousands to our stand- 
ard, and thus crush the rebellion at once. But they have not 
done so. On the contrary, they have clung to their bondage 
with an afifectionate tenacity, which has had a tendency to de- 
grade the negro in my estimation. 

I doubt not the whole race would be in a much better condition 
if allowed to remain where they are in a state of slavery. This 
language may sound quite strange coming from such an abo- 
litionist. But the truth is, I am no longer an abolitionist from 
principle, but from hatred. God knows I hate the slaveholding 
aristocracy of the South. I hate these lordly millionaires, whose 
gold is stained with negro blood; and I will never be satisfied 
till they are all put down, and this tremendous power, so incon- 
sistent with the spirit of our free institutions, is forever de- 
stroyed. 

But this is not the question with which we have to deal at 
present. The rebellion must be crushed; and, in order to accom- 
plish this desirable result, slavery must be abolished to cripple 
the South in her resources. As the institution now exists, it is 
a source of wealth to the insurgents, and a powerful element in 
protracting the war. I would be in favor of exciting the ne- 
groes to servile insurrection, but I do not believe it can be done. 
I have tried, in fact, but failed most signally. And now, since 
this has failed, I have another project in view, which I doubt not 
will meet with your excellency’s approbation, when you have 
duly reflected upon it. 

I will preface the proposition I have to make by saying that 
the South has now few men of pre-eminent mental ability — that 
is, men who have the capacity to guide and control a great move- 
ment like this present rebellion, inaugurated by Jeff Davis and 
Yancey, If the leaders of the rebellion were out of the way, 
I believe the great mass of the people could be induced to renew 
their allegiance, under such regulations as we might see proper 
to prescribe. I propose to put them out of the way. Your excel- 
lency must not be surprised at the novelty of such a proposition, 
nor especially at the means to be used to insure the complete 
success of the plan, I shall shed no blood, nor use magic 
either, in the accomplishment of the project. To be brief, my 
scheme is to carry them off hy the peaceful process of poison. 


252 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


With your permission, I shall employ intelligent agents, who 
shall work themselves into positions in which they can have 
free acceS’s to these men, or at least to their culinary depart- 
ments. By the use of such ipen, I do not doubt that in a short 
space of time your excellency will have the pleasure of know- 
ing that all men in the South who would be dangerous have 
somehow very mysteriously ‘ disappeared from the stage of the 
rebellion. 

There are two men of whom we must be rid at all hazards. 
One is the chief leader in this movement, who has always been 
a turbulent and troublesome spirit in the political affairs of our 
nation. Jeff Davis is about the only man in the South who has 
the impudence and audacity, the stern nerve and energy, to 
shape and control the elements of the rebellion, and carry it 
on until he shall be put down by ^ the strong hand of power. 
Stephens would be much more easily managed than Davis, and 
I would be pleased to see him President of the so-called Con- 
federacy. He is disposed to be conservative, and seems not to 
have lost all his attachment to the old Union; or at least he 
appears to comprehend the folly of offering resistance to the 
tide of loyal strength now rolling from the North with crushing 
power. But Davis possesses a firmness and a courage which no 
disaster can shake or stagger. He is a man of iron will. No 
military reverses can damp the ardor of his patriotism, or 
rather his mischievous but lofty ambition, or frighten him from 
the position to which he stands with the sullen stubbornness of 
an immovable rock. The Rubicon is passed, the die is cast, 
and he will now be “emperor of Rome,” or go down to a gory 
grave covered with an eternity of fame. With him there is no 
retreat. The bridges are all pulled down behind him. He will 
establish the independence of his idolized Confederacy, or fail- 
ing in that, when his last soldier has expired, with the stoicism 
of a Cato, will stab himself to the heart before your face, with a 
smile of derision and contempt on his countenance. If he is 
allowed to remain President, millions of treasure must be 
expended, and oceans of blood must be spilled, in order to put 
down a movement which might easily be crushed if he were 
only hors du combat. 

The other man to whom I refer is R. E. Lee, who now ranks 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


258 


as the greatest military chieftain of the age. Of Johnston I 
have no fears whatever. At present he possesses the unbounded 
confidence of the whole southern people. There app'ears to be 
only one man in the southern states who has measured the 
shallowness of Johnston’s military genius, and that is Davis 
himself. It is a matter of astonishment to me how a whole 
people, including their intelligent men, too, could be so woefully 
mistaken in the capacity of this man. His reputation is based 
upon no solid foundation. It may be blasted by a breath of 
wind. The private feud existing between Johnston ‘and Davis, 
by giving ground for the cry of persecution, has made a mark 
and a name for the former which he never could have carved 
out himself. I would much rather Johnston were in command 
of the rebel armies. With Stephens as President, crying out 
and begging for peace, and Johnston as commander-iu-chief, 
giving up stronghold after stronghold, the rebels would soon 
lay down their arms in disgust. But Davis and Lee are danger- 
ous men — capable of directing a grand revolution. In them 
there are no signs of vacillation or wavering. They have one 
object in view, and will sacrifice the whole South rather than 
fail in its accomplishment. I have said this much in regard to 
the characters of these two men, in order to show the necessity 
of adopting my plan. I shall use no further argument in justi- 
fication of the severity of the proposed scheme, but will submit 
it without comment to your excellency’s careful consideration. 

In conclusion, I have only to say that if you approve the 
project, and I should be so fortunate as to succeed in its accom- 
plishment, I shall expect a reward commensurate with the im- 
portant service thereby rendered to my country. 

Your obedient servant, 

B. F. Robespierre. 

When Winston had finished the perusal of this slanderous 
and villainous, but remarkable, document, he returned it to its 
proper place, and then hastened to his own desk, where he 
wrote rapidly for ten or fifteen minutes; after which he 
folded his letter and directed it to General Johnston. He 
then put the letter in his pocket, intending to forward it 
through a source not necessary now to mention. 


254 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


During all this time, while the spy was thus engaged, he 
was closely and eagerly watched by an eye he did not suspect. 
And right here a short digression becomes necessary. 

John Bowman, to whom we have alluded above, was one of 
those strange, incomprehensible characters, sometimes to be 
met with, who seem to have very little common, practical 
sense, and yet are endowed with a cunning, snake-like sa- 
gacity almost supernatural. These fools in external appear- 
ance are Sometimes surprisingly accurate judges of human 
nature, and can fathom the thoughts and intentions of the 
mind, with a degree of shrewdness utterly incompatible with 
their supposed mental capacity. 

Such was Bowman. A little, diminutive creature in stature 
— a model Zaccheus in size, he nevertheless combined the 
noiseless motions of the cat with the cunning of the fox. At 
all hours of the day and night this mischievous dwarf would 
be stealing through the streets of , or through the build- 

ing occupied by General Bobespierre, prying with his small, 
snaky, restless eyes into every nook and corner, in order to 
discover something amiss, which would cause the infliction of 
puni.'ihment upon some unfortunate wretch. Bowman was a 
cross-breed, which means that General Robespierre was a 7nis- 
cegmator^ and in early life had been smitten very deeply with 
the sable charms of a stout negro wench. To this happy con- 
nection — a connection carrying out fully the idea of Yankee 
miscegenation — John Bowman was indebted for his existence. 
John, at an early day, exhibited strong symptoms of his 
flither’s disposition. There was the same cruelty, the same 
love of misery, and the same indifference to suffering. The 
striking resemblance, in point of disposition, between the son 
and his illustrious progenitor, created in Robespierre a kind 
of beastly attachment to the boy. Consequently he had 
always manifested a peculiar interest in the welfare of this 
fine specimen of mulatto miscegenation, and trained him up 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


255 


to suit his own purposes. The time had now come when the 
cunning fiend could be useful, and he was honored with the 
position of Robespierre’s secret detective — an oflSce he filled 
with great credit to himself, and with singular diligence and 
fidelity to his father. To this fact a large number of the citi- 
zens of can testify. Many a gentleman was surprised, on 

being summoned before Robespierre, to have repeated to him 
verbatim et literatim^ a rebellious expression, which he thought 
had been uttered to his best friend. Many a dignified lady 
was made to feel the force of Robespierre’s wrath and abuse 
for some thoughtless remark, dropped, as she thought, in the 
privacy of her own house. Little expressions and hints, in 
the slightest degree in sympathy with the rebellion, let fall by 
some unsuspecting individual in an unguarded moment, were 
faithfully and accurately reported by this eavesdropping imp. 
He seemed to be hie et uhiqm, at the same time. But yet he 
moved so secretly and silently, that it was a considerable 
length of time before the unfortunate sufferers of dis- 

covered how or whence Robespierre obtained his information. 
Such was the distinguished man, or rather boy, employed by 
General Robespierre. 

From some unknown cause. Bowman had suspected the loy- 
alty of our hero from the very, day he had entered Robes- 
pierre’s service. It is certain that Winston had not said nor 
done any thing to arouse suspicion, though he discovered that 
he was closely watched. Bowman, however, detected nothing 
amiss until the day that Winston found the letter, which we 
have already given. When General Robespierre left Winston 
alone in his ofl&ce, the little wretch heard the latter carefully 
lock the door, and turn the key in such a manner as to pre- 
clude the possibility of being watched through the key-hole. 
Bowman’s instinct taught him that something unusual was 
about to take place. So stealing noiselessly up-stairs, im- 
mediately over Robespierre’s ofi&ce, he placed himself in a 


256 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


position in which he could observe all the spy’s movements. If 
our hero had thrown his eyes up to the ceiling overhead, he 
would have seen that in one corner a small portion of the 
plastering was knocked off. Bowman had done this, and had 
taken up a piece of plank from the floor, in order to peep 
through the apertures between the lathing. He could thus, 
without any difficulty, observe all that was going on in the 
room below. While Winston was deeply occupied with Robes- 
pierre’s letter, a pair of twinkling eyes was fastened upon him, 
with a degree of most intense interest. When the spy had 
finished his letter, and placed it carefully in his pocket, he re- 
sumed his usual business. Bowman moved not, but kept his 
position, crouched up with the patience of a cat watching for 
its prey, until toward nightfall. 

That night when Winston retired to his room, he locked his 
door with more than his usual caution. He felt a vague, in- 
definable presentiment that he was in the presence of danger. 
Before lying down he searched his apartment, looking under 
the bed, up the chimney, and into every place in which it 
would be possible to conceal a human being, whatever might 
be his size. Having taken all these precautions, he removed 
the missive he had written from his pocket, and put it under 
his pillow. Notwithstanding all this, the eye of Bowman was 
upon him. 

About midnight, when Bowman knew from the spy’s heavy 
breathing that he was in a deep and profound sleep, his 
stealthy form might have been seen creeping through the 
window of our hero’s room. It would have been well for 
Winston had he examined his window as closely as he had 
his door. If he had done so, he could have seen that one 
pane of glass was held to the sash only by three or four 
tacks, which could be easily removed with the fingers. ’ The 
spy had, however, prudently fastened down the window. 
Nevertheless, a few moments after twelve o’clock, Bowman 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


257 


had stolen silently into the spy’s apartment. A shadow or a 
spirit could not have moved with less noise than he did. 
Stealing up to the bedside, his tapering fingers glided under 
the pillow, and soon drew forth the letter from its hiding- 
place. Having now accomplished his object, be vanished 
from the room with the swiftness and noiseless motions of a 
dim, silent sprite. Hastening to his own chamber, he quickly 
struck a light, and his eyes fairly danced with joy as he read 
the palpable evidence of Winston’s guilt. But no time was 
to be lost; for Winston might soon miss his letter, and might 
make his escape before he could be arrested. So, in a short 
time, he was closeted with General Robespierre, who allowed 
J ohn free access at all hours. 

“I suppose, John,” said General Robespierre, rubbing his 
eyes, “something of unusual importance has occurred.” 

“ I do n’t generally wake up your honor at midnight for 
nothing,” replied the son, however manifesting no disposition 
to make known the object of his visit. A silence of several 
moments ensued. 

“Well, John, I am waiting patiently to hear your commu- 
nication.” 

“Before I tell any thing, I want to ask your honor a few 
questions.” 

“Very well, John — proceed,” said Robespierre, eyeing the 
boy with some surprise. 

This was an unusual course for John to pursue. 

“Haven’t I always served you faithfully?” 

“ Yes,” was the laconic reply. 

“ Have I ever claimed any thing for my services except my 
regular wages?” 

“Ah, yes; I understand it now. You want money,” pull- 
ing out his purse and laying a five -dollar gold piece on the 
table. “I thought, Joh«, you were well supplied. I have 
always treated you liberally.” 


17 


258 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“You have never heard me grumble at my lot. Your 
honor has occasionally tossed me a five or a ten, and I have 
been satisfied; but now I must have something more than 
tens and fives.” 

“Well, what amount do you want?” 

•“Two thousand dollars,” said Bowman, slowly. 

“Two thousand dollars!” exclaimed the General, starting 
from his seat. “H — 11 and blazes! John Bowman, what do 
you mean?” 

“ Bowman would n’t be my name if I had my rights.” 

“The devil it would n’t!” said Robespierre, in astonishment. 
“Who told you this?” 

“It do n’t matter who told me — I found it out. But you 
need n’t swear at me so ; you never did it before, and I think 
I have done enough to deserve better treatment.” 

“Well, well, John,” said the General, softening somewhat; 
“I did not mean any harm. But what do you want with so 
much money?” 

“There ’s no reason why I should keep it a secret, if you 
want to hear it. You recollect I once had a mother, and you 
know where she is as well as I do. I never know’d until a 
short time ago who really was my true father. My mother, 
as you ought to know, is now in New York, and she is in 
want. I see your honor understands it all; so it won’t be 
needful to bring up old stories. I do n’t like to tell it 
any better than you like to hear it. If you will give me 
two thousand dollars, and let me take it to my mother, who* 
you left entirely when you was made a general, I will put her 
in a way to make a decent living; then come back and say no 
more about it. I think you owe my mother this much for 
deserting her as you did.” 

“ I never was married to your mo.ther.” 

“No, I know you was not, and that’s what disgraces mo. 

I do n’t see why you should leave her now, when you profess 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


259 


to be fighting for the blacks, and to make them equal to the 
whites. You ought to marry her, and carry out your doc- 
trine, even if she is not as white as your honor is. She did 
not leave you to freeze in the streets when you used to git 
dead drunk and tumble into the gutters.” 

This was rather an unpleasant subject to the worthy father, 
and he was willing to dismiss it as soon as possible. He did 
not wish to hear any more of his own history. 

“Well, never mind, John; it is a large amount, but I will 
give you the money upon one condition; and that is, you are 
not to repeat this story hereafter in order to extort money 
from me.” 

“ I do n’t think I shall call upon your honor again ; but the 
news I have may be worth more than I ask.” 

“Now we understand each other,” said Robespierre, “let us 
have' it.” 

“You know this man Thompson, who has been with us 
only a short time?” 

“Yes,” replied the General, with eagerness. 

“I have been watching him since he came here. To-day he 
searched your desk, and to-night I took this from under his 
pillow.” And he handed the letter to Robespierre. 

The bnitish monster fairly clutched at it, and fired up with 
wrath and ire as he read the lines revealing, in a few words, 
his nefarious plot. He required no further evidence, though 
no name was subscribed, nor any thing else except a private 
mark, which might furnish any indication as to the authorship. 
Bowman’s simple word was ample testimony with Robespierre. 

“John,” said the General, when he had finished the letter, 
“wake up Sergeant Bowles, and tell him to report at my office 
immediately, with twelve men.” 

Bowman disappeared in a trice, and executed the order 
with such alacrity and speed that in less than twenty minutes 
the sergeant, with his men, stood in Robespierre’s office. 


260 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Sergeant,” ordered General Robespierre, “follow Bowman 
here, and arrest the man whom he will point out, and bring 
him to me. Be careful that he does not escape.” 

The sergeant bowed to the officer, and then, following the 
wiry dwarf, hastened to the spy’s room, where he was sleep- 
ing, all unconscious of the approaching peril. The sergeant 
stationed two men at the window, and rapped at the door. 

Winston sprang up in an instant, “ Hold on,” said he, in 
a low voice, as the rap was repeated. On opening the door, 
he was thunderstruck to find several bayonets pointing to his 
breast. 

“That is the man,” said John Bowman, who was carrying a 
light. 

“I am ordered to arrest you,” said Sergeant Bowles, “and 
take you to General Robespierre’s office immediately.” 

“This is rather a strange proceeding; but nevertheless I 
will be ready in a moment to appear before the General.” 
And the spy proceeded to don his clothing. While moving 
about his bed, he took occasion to feel under his pillow for 
his letter. 

“You needn’t look for that, Mr. Thompson: it’s gone, 
sure,” cried Bowman, in a fit of laughter. 

Winston now comprehended the magnitude of his danger; 
but it was too late to attempt an escape. Putting on the best 
face he possibly could, he was soon led into the presence of 
General Robespierre. As soon as the spy entered, Robes- 
pierre fastened his eyes, glowing like those of an enraged 
tiger, upon him, and surveyed his form from head to foot. 
Winston stood before him calm and collected. 

“Sergeant Bowles,” at length said the brute, in a stern but 
suppressed voice, “ take this d — d traitorous spy beyond the 
outer pickets before daybreak, and never let him see the sun 
rise. Hang him half a mile from the road, and leave his in- 
fernal body to rot in the air.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


261 


“General Robespierre,” said Winston, in a calm voice, “I 
should like to know the meaning of this unexpected and 
severe order. I think, sir, I am entitled to a fair trial, at 
least.” 

“Meaning? Damnable hypocrite, what does this mean?” 
shaking the letter in the spy’s face. “Do n’t feign ignorance, 
Thompson ; you are a black-hearted rebel, doubly guilty, and, 
by the eternal God, you shall die. Not another word, sir. 
Take him away, sergeant; and if he escapes, I shall hold you 
responsible. Go with them. Bowman.” And the enraged 
officer retired to his bed. 

Winston was put under strong guard, and closely watched 
until a short time before daylight. There was no possible 
chance to escape, nor did he make any attempt to extricate 
himself from his perilous situation; but submitted, with the 
best grace he could, to what seemed the decrees of inexorable 
fate. When the first streaks of the approaching day began 
to illuminate the eastern horizon, the party charged with 
Winston’s execution were one or two miles from the city. 
The prisoner was tightly bound, and placed in a wagon 
guarded by six men. Behind this there followed seven or 
eight horsemen, among whom was John Bowman. The party 
moved rapidly until the outer pickets were passed, when they 
came to a halt. The spy was now taken from the wagon, his 
feet untied, and then he was made to walk half a mile from* 
the main road, as Robespierre had directed. At length, stop- 
ping under a large oak, with a projecting limb fifteen or 
twenty feet from the ground, Sergeant Bowles prepared to 
execute the cruel mandate of his master. 

“ This is ugly work, boys,” said the sergeant. “ Be quick, 
and let’s get through with it. You heard the General’s 
order,” he continued, turning to the spy. “You must die 
before sunrise. But we will give you time to say your 
prayers, if you want to.” 


262 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Winston moved three or four steps, knelt for several 
minutes, and then, to the astonishment of the blood-thirsty 
Yankees, uttered a strange, wild shriek, that caused the whole 
party to start like they had been shot. They glanced at each 
other in amazement. 

“What in the h — 11 do you mean by that?” asked the 
sergeant. 

“It is the custom of my church,” replied the spy. 

“He thinks he’s come to a camp-meeting,” said another. 
“He ’s one o’ the Methodists. I guess he ’s only happy.” 

Winston remained on his knees for twenty minutes. By 
this time the patience of the Yankees was exhausted. 

“Why, you must be a h — 11 of a sinner,” cried Bowles. 
“ You might have got pardon for two lifetimes of sin in all 
this time, if you had been in earnest. Come on; we can’t 
wait any longer; it is nearly sunrise.” 

Another shriek, louder than the first, split the air like a 
clap of thunder, and seemed to jar the very earth on which 
the startled Yankees stood. 

“See here, boys,” cried Bowles, “that scream means some- 
thing besides religion. I ’ll be d — d if he ain’t hollering for 
somebody. Come on, let ’s hang him at once. He ’s after no 
good. Get up, sir, we won’t wait another minit.” 

“ Let me finish my prayers first,” said the spy. 

“No, sir; you have had time enough to say a dozen prayers. 
If you aint done, I can’t help it. I must obey orders. So 
come on, or I will use force.” 

“Will you be so cruel as not to let a dying man say his 
prayers? What difference can a few moments make to you?” 

“Well, go on, then,” interrupted Bowles; “but be in a 
hurry; I can’t wait much longer.” 

Winston still remained on his knees in the attitude of 
earnest prayer. The Yankees now began to murmur at this 
delay, and at length their stock ‘of patience was completely 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


263 


exhausted. Their grumblings were suddenly stopped by an- 
other shriek. 

“By G — d, I will stop that,” cried Bowles. “Come on, 
men; there’s treachery in them screams. Hang him up at 
once.” 

The rope was adjusted about the spy’s neck, and the band- 
age was placed over his eyes. 

“Now, boys,” commanded Bowles, “throw it over the limb, 
and grab the other end, and then pull him up.” 

Poor Winston felt the cord tighten around his neck as he 
was drawn us, and he silently commended his soul to God. 

“Fasten the rope to that sapling, boys, and leave — quick.” 

Scarcely had the sergeant uttered this exclamation, when 
bang! bang! bang! rang out, sharp and clear, .from twenty 
Maynard rifles. The spy felt himself fall heavily to the 
earth on his back, and heard a confused, dull murmur of 
groans, shrieks, and yells. It . was several minutes before 
he recovered. The flrst object which met his eyes when 
he returned to consciousness was the writhing form of John' 
Bowman dangling from the limb from which he himself had 
been suspended. Springing to his feet at length, he saw 
a dozen bodies dressed in blue stretched upon the earth. 
Every one had passed into “that bourne from whence no 
traveler returns.” Standing around were twenty-five or thirty 
rough-looking men, who gazed upon the scene with perfect 
nonchalance.. At last, one who seemed to be the leader 
exclaimed : 

“There is no time to be lost. To horse, men, to horse!” 
Having given this command, he turned to Winston. “You 
have been mighty lucky, friend, mighty lucky.” 

“Yes, but what made you so slow?” asked Winston. “I 
thought you never would come.” 

“We were in that thicket all the time. But we could 
not fire into the squad until they had drawn you out of 


264 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


the crowd. You might a- thought of this, and saved them 
terrible screeches which we all understood. I know’d you 
would n’t die before we could git you down.” 

“Where is Taylor?” asked Winston. 

“He’s with the horses; but mount that animal,” pointing 
to one of the Yankee’s horses, “and we’ll talk more about it 
when we git out of danger; the pickets aint fur off.” 

In a moment the whole party dashed away from the spot 
upon which this gory tragedy had been enacted, and, turning 
into a dense thicket, in one hour more were beyond the reach 
of immediate danger. Here we will leave Winston, relating 
to his deliverers the circumstances which had nearly cost him 
his life, and enter into more minute details as to the means 
which led to his rescue. We promise to be brief. 

The reader will recollect that when Sergeant Bowles rapped 
at the spy’s door, a short time after midnight, it was opened 
without hesitation. Had he have known who his visitors 
were, an/3 what their object was, probably admission into his 
chamber would not have been so easily effected. He expected 
to meet at one o’clock that morning an accomplice by the 
name of Taylor, whose business it was to go in and out of 
the Federal lines, in order to bear whatever messages might 
be necessary. Taylor had called upon Winston two hours 
after the latter had written his letter to Greneral Johnston, but 
Robespierre was then in the office, and he had no opportunity 
to put the document in Taylor’s hands. So. whispering in 
his comrade’s ear “ one o’clock to-night,” Taylor retired until 
the appointed hour should arrive. About the time Winston 
was arrested, his accomplice was lurking near the office. He 
was in a position in which he could observe the whole pro- 
ceeding; and when he saw Winston taken into Robespierre’s 
office, he walked close under the window, and by listening at- 
tentively could hear all that was said. While the spy was 
being removed to prison, Taylor followed at a short distance 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


265 


until he was in a safe place, then whistled a well-known signal,' 
which was understood by the spy, but was unnoticed by any 
of the guard. As soon as the sound had issued from Tay- 
lor’s lips, he darted down a narrow alley, and traveled out of 
the city with a celerity which soon brought him to the head- 
quarters of a band of guerrillas. Here, in a few words, he 
related the object of his early visit, and the result is known to 
the reader. 


266 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


“ I would outstare the sternest oyes that look^ 

Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, 

Pluck the young sucking cub from the she bear, 

Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, 

To win thee, lady.” 

Header, the scene now changes. Let your imagination 

leave the city, and wander to the Federal capital, which, 

notwithstanding the gigantic war that was scattering its un- 
told horrors throughout the civilized world, was a scene of 
gayety and festivity. It is night. The bright moon, from a 
soft, smiling sky, pours down a flood of silvery light upon the 
streets of modern Sodom and Gomorrah. It is the brilliant 
eye of Deity peering down upon the gaudy habitations of a 
sinful race. 0, upon how many crimes, upon how many dark 
deeds of blood, does that same serene eye gaze from the gates 
of heaven! It beholds the night-walking ruffian, lurking 
amid the thickets that shade the highway, in order to plunge 
his glittering knife into the heart of some unwary traveler. 

It beholds that human form, mutilated and mangled, dragged 
by rude hands to the brink of some gentle river, and buried 
beneath the smooth moonlit surface of the placid stream. It 
looks with* pitying kindness upon the wretched miser who, 
consecrating his soul to the god of Mammon, steals to his 
coffers, hidden in the “ first temples ” of deity, and feasts his ' 
failing sight upon ill-gotten treasure, extracted from the warm 
tears of widows and orphans. It peeps through the windows 
of the presidential mansion-, upon the proud tyrant rejoicing, 
like Belshazzar of old, in the greatness of his power and the 
grandeur of his fame, but is yet blind to the handwriting 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


267 


upon the wall, traced in letters of blood — Mene, Mene, 
Tekel, Upharsin. Go on, vile man, unmolested in the 
ways of sin and iniquity, but when death shall bear thee be- 
yond the murky waves of that river which no mortal crosses 
but once, and shall confine thee within the narrow limits of 
the tomb till the great day of wrath, that same holy light, now 
smiling down upon thy deeds of forbidden wickedness, changed 
to crimson gore, will frown the mighty vengeance of an 
offended God upon thy guilty soul! In a little while thou 
shalt cross the river of death, and answer to God for the 
suffering scattered by thy sinful hand over the bloody surface 
of a ruined continent! 

In front of a large, handsome building, a number of splen- 
did carriages was drawn up. Reader, enter that magnificent 
dwelling. Do you discover any indications of the terrible 
scourge of war, which has changed the “sunny South” from 
a Shinar’s fertile plain into the sad and mournful wastes of a 
Golgothic land? Would you suspect, from the gay scene be- 
fore you, that a struggle of most stupendous magnitude was 
carrying grief and sorrow to millions of suffering hearts? 
You see smiling faces, bright eyes, lovely forms arrayed in the 
costliest apparel the world can furnish. You hear lively chat, 
and the clear, ringing laugh, as it issues from the rosy lips of 
some happy maid. Indeed, in the midst of life, we are in 
death. 

But, passing by the thoughtless, giddy throng, observe that 
officer who bears upon his shoulders the insignia of a Federal 
colonel. His form is well-proportioned, and his noble coun- 
tenance, at present of a somewhat melancholy cast, is suffi- 
ciently handsome to cause the hearts of Eve’s fairest daughters 
to flutter with joy and delight. But the officer seems lost in 
profound abstraction, and pays little attention to any person of 
either sex in the brilliafttly lighted parlor. Occasionally he 
easts his eyes in the direction of the door, moves uneasily, 


268 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


then turns his face to the company with ill-concealed vexation 
and disappointment. Presently a dress rustles in the door, 
and again the officer turns his head. A dark-haired, dark- 
eyed, pale-faced maid, of some twenty-two summers, stands in 
the entrance. She looked more like a spiritual than a human 
being. Though this was evidently the person expected by the 
officer, he yet seemed surprised; his heart beat with uncon- 
ti-oliable emotion, and he blushed to his temples. His secret 
is revealed. The pale lady moves gracefully through the 
assembly, and seats herself, with perfect unconcern, on a sofa 
in a far corner of the room. It was palpable to the most in- 
attentive observer that she was “in the crowd, but not of the 
crowd.” It was Emily Burrell. Poor girl! she had lost all 
taste and relish for such pleasures and scenes; but, at the 
solicitation of her brother, had agreed to attend this one party. 
Under the weight of her crushed affection,- she was slowly but 
surely sinking to a premature grave. The bloodless cheek, the 
sunken eye, the vacant look, the sluggish step, the listless atti- 
tude, were all indications of a bruised and broken spirit. Had 
it not been for the bright, dark eye, she might have been mis- 
taken for a fine piece of marble, chiseled and fashioned into a 
human form by the hand of man. Yet she was beautiful, 
angelically beautiful; it was almost the beauty of a spirit — 
the beauty of an etherealizing form. Colonel Burrell had 
done all that affection for his suffering sister could suggest to 
alleviate her distress; but it was all unavailing. She seemed 
to occupy an intermediate position between the living and the 
dead, like an unculled fiower that stands between two seasons, 
and perfumes the last summer breeze with its sweet fragrance, 
then scatters its fading leaves upon the first rude blast of the 
wintry winds. 

As soon as our officer could change his locality with decency 
and propriety, without betraying the secret of his heart too 
plainly to be unnoticed, he moved to Emily’s side. Numerous 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


269 


eyes were at first fixed upon the strange-looking pair, but the 
officer managed to retain his self-possession, and conversed 
with so much intelligence and feeling, that Emily could not 
but listen with an unusual degree of interest. In the course 
of the evening, Emily, who had declined all solicitations to 
dance, was induced to promenade with the Colonel. They 
walked in the long gallery, illuminated only by the rays of 
the moon, and talked of the beauties of nature — a subject 
upon which the officer expatiated with so much pathos and 
feeling and sympathy that Emily actually forgot her suffer- 
ings. At length the topic was changed. 

“Do you know. Miss Burrell,” said the Colonel, in a slightly 
tremulous voice, “ that this night has been one of the happiest 
of my life?” 

“No, sir, I did not; but I am glad somebody can be 
happy?” 

“But more than that,” continued the officer, not replying to 
the last remark, “do you know it depends upon you to make 
it the most happy or most miserable of my whole life?” 

There was no reply. 

“I see you are not good at taking hints. Miss Burrell. I 
was in hopes that I had met my spirit’s mate, and that I could 
be easily understood, without even the customary agency of 
language.” 

“I shall not pretend ignorance. Colonel Ellsworth, of the 
subject to which I think you allude. If I have not misinter- 
preted your words, we may as well change the subject.” 

“Say not so,’’ he exclaimed, with great earnestness; “say 
not so. Do not thus blight the tender flower which I have 
cherished in my heart until it has become the .'iole study of 
my existence. But let me talk to you of that holy emotion 
which has now taken possession of my whole being.” 

“It will all be in vain. Colonel. The subject is an un- 
pleasant one to me; but if you insist upon making it the 


270 THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 

theme of our conversation, I tell you in advance, and I give you 
fair warning, that your words will fall upon a heart of ice. 

“ You slander yourself,” exclaimed the officer. “ Your very 
manner contradicts the unjust statement you have made, and 
you do not understand the nobility of your own nature, if 
that is your opinion. No being of your personal appearance 
can own a heart of ice.” 

“You see that beautiful moon. Colonel Ellsworth?” she 
said, pointing upward. “ The language of love can no more 
reach my nature than it can change the cheerful countenance 
of th^Tglowing orb of light— I am hve-jjroofr 

“I can not believe it. Mon Dieu! one of youx appearance, 
one with your sparkling' eyes, destitute of all that ennobles the 
nature of woman! ■ I will not slander you by believing it. 
Do not, then, doom me to a lifetime of misery. 

“Well, you can believe it or not. Even were it otherwise, 
and I should be disposed to reciprocate the feeling you pro- 
fess, there would be an eternal barrier between us.” 

“What, in the name of heaven, can that be?” cried the 
officer, starting in surprise at the energy with which the words 
were uttered. 

“ Since you ask it. Colonel — since you want a reason, I trust 
I can presume upon your honor not to divulge a secret which 
might endanger my safety in Washington?” ' 

“ I would lay down my life before I would betray your con- 
fidence.” 

“ Then I could never give my hand to one who helps to 
sustain this wicked war, or who affiliates with those now 
devastating the South, and turning her broad fields into a 
wilderness.” 

“Why not?” 

“That is a strange question. You know what Halleck says? 


‘They love their land because it is their own, 
And scorn to give aught other reason why.’ 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


271 


But I am not so ill-natured as that; I will give you a reason 
why. Because, then, I am a native of Kentucky; because I 
love the South; I love her social and political institutions; I 
love her sunny plains, her magnificent rivers, her hills and 
her vales, her fountains, her streams, and her floods. I was 
born in the South; educated in the South; my feelings, sym- 
pathies, associations, affections, are all in the South. She 
nurtured my childhood, witnessed the sports and triumphs of 
my girlhood, and when I die the only thing I shall crave is a 
quiet resting-place in her bosom — yes, in her bosom, now 
torn, bleeding, and bruised by the most cruel, savagh, and 
unjust war ever forced upon an oppressed and down -trodden 
people. I have witnessed her heroic struggle for independ- 
ence;’ I have seen her noble sacrifices — the dearest and most 
trying that liberty ever calls upon her devotees to make; I 
have pitied and grieved over her unparalleled sufferings; and 
I have wept when her once happy people have been reduced 
to ruin, poverty, and beggary. Cast your eyes, Colonel Ells- 
worth, cast your eyes over the southern states, and what do 
you see? Happy homes burned and razed to the ground. 
And where are the owners? They have fled from the fell 
destroyer, and have sought, as refugees, an asylum in other 
states, or hidden in the wilderness like hunted beasts of prey. 
You see our women and children driven to the woods, our 
domestic animals butchered, our farms made an inhospitable 
waste, and even our wearing apparel wantonly torn to frag- 
ments. Our churches, dedicated to the living God, have been 
desecrated; our cemeteries, adorned and beautified by the 
labors of mourning friends, despoiled, and the bones of the 
sleeping dead disturbed by a worse than vandal foe, in the 
search for hidden treasure. In the days of yore. Colonel 
Ellsworth,” continued the girl, moved to tears by her own 
eloquence, “when a Roman citizen had been guilty of any 
misdemeanor, and wished protection against his enemies, he 


272 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


fled into the temple of the sea god, and not even the unbe- 
lieving heathen dared to pollute the sanctity of that holy spot. 
But, in the South, where is the sacred sanctuary to which our 
defenseless women and children can flee from the insults of 
the barbarous foe? Not even the church — the mnctum sanc- 
torum of modern religion — the church in which we are re- 
quired to lay aside human passion and human pride — escapes 
the argus eye of northern avarice. Not even the Masonic 
temple — that time-honored institution, which has withstood the 
shock of more than a thousand years, which has come down 
to us from the days of Solomon over the forgotten ruins of 
kingdoms and empires, and which is now venerated and rever- 
enced for its antiquity and its sacred traditions among all 
nations, both civilized and barbarous — not even the arcana of 
that wonderful temple of mystery, whose only object is to 
unite the bonds of brotherly love between men of different 
tribes, races, and religions, and to pour the balm of consolation 
into the bleeding bosom of distressed man, and which pro- 
fesses no connection with the political schemes and rebellions 
of this earth — not even that meets with the respect a Goth 
or a Vandal would pay. But its doors have been forced open; 
its jewels, visible emblems to inculcate lessons of virtue, mo- 
rality, and religion, have been snatched from the sacred 
adytum, and sent back to the North as trophies wrenched 
from offending rebels. Not even the graveyard — that silent, 
peaceful home of departed friends — is free from the intrusions 
of Union soldiers. But the very tombstones, bearing the last 
tribute of respect and affection that mortality can pay, have 
been torn down, and used as tables in the Federal camps. 
Sir!” she exclaimed, wild with the intensity of her own deep 
feeling, “men who could do this would attempt to rob a 
saint in the presence of the Great Bedeemer, or pilfer gold 
from the throne of the invisible God! Men who could do 
this” . 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


273 


*‘In the name of heaven, Miss Burrell, pause — pause!” 
cried Colonel Ellsworth, somewhat alarmed, as he saw the 
fragile form quivering, the dark eye flashing in the moon- 
light, and the lip trembling with deeply aroused feeling. 

It was a picture of personified patriotism, indignant at the 
heathenish outrages and wrongs inflicted upon a proud race — 
a picture upon which Colonel Ellsworth gazed with a strange 
mingling of fear, sympathy, and admiration. Emily, recalled 
to herself, continued more calmly: 

“You doubtless think I am an enthusiast or a fanatic, 
Colonel. Well, I shall not deny it. Upon this subject I am 
immovably fixed. If I marry, a rebel shall be my husband; 
his people shall be my people, and his God my God; and 
when the South goes down beneath a sea of blood, if that is 
to be her dreadful fate, I would not survive the wreck, and 
reside in the North, a living monument of disgrace to the 
dead heroes, the noble martyrs of liberty, whose moldering 
bones repose in the soil of my own native land. But when 
all have gone ; when her last son has fallen upon the battle- 
field; when her last daughter has famished in the wild woods; 
and her last babe has breathed out its young life at its dead 
mother’s breast; 0 God! let me too follow their shades be- 
yond the reach of northern oppression ! Let me die — let me 
rest in the bosom of Kentucky’s dark and bloody ground, 
where sleep my own dear father and mother!” 

Nature gave way to this sudden transition of feeling, and 
as the heroine ceased from talking by reason of exhaustion, 
a flood of tears gushed down the pale cheek. Will Colonel 
Ellsworth be called weak if his eye moistened? Header, at 
that moment he would have exchanged places with the 
humblest soldier in the Confederate army could he have 
clasped that weeping girl to his breast, and have wiped 
her tears away. But it was absolutely necessary that he 
should say something in his own defense, or he might lose the 

18 


274 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


eloquent rebel girl forever. After a brief, thoughtful silence, 
he slowly replied: 

“I appreciate your feelings, Miss. Burrell, and your ex- 
treme sensibility. But you must not allow the ardor of your 
nature to force you into an .excess of patriotism, and of 
hatred against those who deem it a sacred duty to sustain the 
Union. War, I know, is a terrible scourge, and no one 
deprecates its horrors more than I do; and while I admit 
that the state of things so graphically and eloquently de- 
scribed by you exists to some extent, yet pardon me when I 
say the picture drawn by your brilliant imagination appears 
to be rather highly embellished. Death and suffering are the 
natural, legitimate, and inevitable consequences of war; and a 
war without distress would be an anomaly in the history of 
man. But you take altogether a one-sided view of this ques- 
tion. You throw the whole blame upon those who wouldye- 
store the Union to its former integrity and its pristine glory. 
Now, while I am not disposed to exonerate my party from 
just censure, I nevertheless believe the South is as much 
responsible for the inauguration of this war as the North. I 
blame both parties. I believe this awful calamity could have 
been averted. You will find that one is to blame as much as 
the other. Now I ask you who fired the first gun — who 
first insulted^ that flag which you see streaming from the 
heights of the capitol in proud defiance? Under that same 
flag you were born. Miss Burrell. It waved over and pro- 
tected your infancy. You were taught in your childhood to 
love and revere it as the emblem of the proudest nationality 
this world ever saw. Your heart once beat with joy when 
you beheld that glorious streamer unfold its “stars and 
stripes” over a free, contented, and happy people. After 
the lapse of nearly a century, when that flag was recognized 
and respected throughout the wide world, up springs a man 
in the South, goaded on by the demon of unholy ambition 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


275 


who tears it into fragments, and tramples its shreds under his 
unhallowed feet. Who that has a single spark of patriotism 
glowing in his heart would not rush to that sacred emblem 
representing the honor, dignity, and power of his insulted 
country? The Union, Miss Burrell, was a splendid inherit- 
ance, bequeathed to us by our forefathers, purchased with 
their blood, nurtured and fostered by their protecting care for 
many long and trying years, until it came down to us the 
wonder and admiration of man, and the favored institution 
of God. Washington with his dying breath admonished us 
to beware of dismembering this great country, this magnifi- 
cent bequeathment. We have been told, time and again, by 
Clay, Webster, and other great statesmen, that the dissolution 
of this Union could never be accomplished without bloodshed. 
With all this warning, then, I ask you again, who is responsi- 
ble for the suffering and distress occasioned by the war? Not 
I, and others like me, who wished only to see our nation go 
forward in its career of unexampled prosperity; not Mr. 
Lincoln, who only desired to fill the position to which the 
voice of the nation had called him, and to hand down intact 
to his successor the Union in its entirety, with all its bless- 
ings and privileges; but it is Jeff Davis, who, not satisfied 
with his hig-h, dignified place in the United States Senate, 
must persuade the southern states to secede, form a con- 
federacy, and place him at its head. Like Caesar, he would 
rather rule in an insignificant village than be a private 
citizen of Borne. Suppose we had recognized the right of 
secession, and the different states should begin to set up for 
themselves. In a few years this vast country would be 
severed into numberless little republics; not republics either, 
but petty kingdoms, quarreling among themselves, and filling 
a continent with confusion and trouble. In course of time 
foreign despots would interfere, and the horrors which you 
depict as now existing in the South would sink into insignifi- 


276 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


cance compared with the evils inflicted by an invading armjr 
of French, English, Spanish, and other ambitious nations of 
Europe. Rather than, risk the probability of such a state of 
things, the South would better submit to the punishment due 
to her act of disobedience, and like a chastised child return 
to the embraces of a kind father. But, Miss Burrell,” con- 
tinued the officer, abruptly breaking off, “I have no desire to 
discuss this unpleasant subject further. I would much rather 
talk of yourself and the deep affection I feel for you.” 

“ I am not worth talking about. Colonel Ellsworth ; and as 
for your love, bestow it upon some of those gay dancers, who 
will feel proud of the preference, and whose tender hearts will 
swell with affection at the approach of the gallant Colonel 
Ellsworth.” 

“ Do not talk thus lightly. Miss Burrell, and in such a tone 
of mockery and sarcasm. I am not, I trust, one of those 
thoughtless beings who bow with reverence at the shrine of 
Plutus, and who worship and adore the pomp and parade of 
fashion. But I am one — and I say it not boastingly — who 
can appreciate those solid and more noble qualities of mind 
and heart which constitute the basis of all true happiness. I 
am not one who can be dazzled and attracted by the thin, gauzy 
surface of beauty; but I am one who can penetrate the shal- 
lowness of outside display, and who can esteem the excel- 
lences of a true heart. It is not my intention to flatter. Miss 
Burrell, but you are the only one I have yet met with who 
possesses in an eminent degree those qualities which I respect 
and admire. I love the open candor of your nature; your 
sensibility of soul; your enthusiasm of mind; your indiffer- 
ence to the frivolities and trumperies of life; and, above all, 
the deep and profound sympathy and ardor of your heart. 
In a word, I And in you all the indications of a true woman. 
Can you blame me, then, if I should feel the laudable de- 
sire to make such a heart my own? Can you reproach me, 


THE CONEEHEllATK SPY. 277 

having this opinion of your character, for the excusable wish 
to make you the idolized wife of my heart? ” 

“I would, indeed, be an exception to my sex. Colonel Ells- 
worth, did I not feel flattered at your undeserved encomium. 
I thank you for the unmerited compliment bestowed upon 
virtues which exist, I fear, only in your imagination; but I 
must say you have one praiseworthy quality in a high degree, 
and that is perseverance. You must possess a most wonderful 
amount of that virtue, or you must consider me a very fickle - 
minded creature, to be changed in a moment after I made the 
positive and emphatic declaration that I could not return the 
feeling which you at least profess. If you gave me credit for 
so much honesty of heart, you should have been satisfied with 
my answer. But I repeat. Colonel, if there were no other 
obstacles in the way, I could never be induced to connect my 
destiny in any manner with one who hates the unfortunate 
country that gave me birth, and who seeks to rivet upon her 
bleeding limbs the galling chains of bondage and subjugation. 
No; let me live in my own native South, and if she can not 
be free, O, ask me not to forsake my suffering sisters in the 
hour of anguish, and desert the noble sons of Kentucky, who 
have immortalized, in story and in song, the ‘dark and bloody 
ground.’ While our valiant soldiers are struggling with al- 
most superhuman courage against the terrible odds hurled 
upon them, and our delicate women, with more than the firm- 
ness of Spartan matrons, are sending their adored sons to the 
gory field, God forbid that I should turn from them in this 
the day of trial, and mock their libations of tears and blood 
by my act of apostasy. I could not be so deaf to the voice 
that cries from the ground for vengeance. 

‘I tell thee that the voice of patriot blood, 

Thus pour’d for faith and freedom, hath a tone 
Which, from the night of ages, from the gulf 
Of death, shall burst and make its high appeal 
Sound unto earth and heaven 1’ 


278 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Methinks I hear that voice to-night; and I can not close my 
ears against its loud appeal. Rather than be a faithless 
Helen, and flee ray country with a perjured Paris, I would 
willingly become the Iphigenia of the South, whose death 
should appease the wrath of the angry sister of Apollo, if it 
could seal the independence of our oppressed republic. In 
the language of a true patriot, ‘Sink or swim, live or die, sur- 
vive or perish,’ I go with the South. If she triumph, I shall 
glory in her success; but if she fall, may the Holy One never 
let me live to see her proud-spirited people become ‘hewers 
of wood and drawers of water’ — forced to perform vile drudg- 
eries imposed by Egyptian task-masters.” 

“I am extremely sorry. Miss Burrell,” replied the officer, in 
whose ears the soft, silvery tones of the rebel girl’s trembling 
voice were still ringing like the mournful vibrations of a 
funeral bell — “I am extremely sorry that you are laboring 
under such a strange and, to me, unaccountable delusion. I 
do not hate the South, as you say; God knows I pity her 
great sufferings; and I would lay down my poor life, if for 
nothing else but your sake, to cement the sacred ties that once 
bound our separated people together. I was a member. Miss 
Burrell, of the last congress that ever sat in the old Union, 
and I raised my feeble voice, I spoke with all the power of 
my whole mind, to ward off this separation which has brought 
upon both sections calamities and horrors that no description 
can justly portray. I endeavored in vain to pour oil upon the 
troubled waters, and to calm the stubborn passions under the 
influence of which both parties were rushing on headlong 
to destruction. I failed; and when the first tocsin of war 
sounded the alarm, I drew forth my sword from its scabbard 
with a sorrowful heart. Not because I hated the South; not 
because I wished to spill the blood of her deluded children in 
wanton cruelty; but because I wished to chastise her with the 
kindness of a physician who cuts out the foul flesh from the 


THE CONFEHEKATE SPY. 27 \) 

wound that the patient may live. When, therefore, you ac- 
cuse the whole North of manifesting such an unjustifiable 
malignity toward their brethren of the South, you do me 
great injustice to include my name in the category. ” 

“You are found in very bad company, to say the least of it. 
But, however, it is not my intention. Colonel, to include any 
but the guilty; and if you disclaim all feelings of bitterness 
toward my down-trodden countrymen, I could not be so un- 
generous and unjust as to force you into a position which you 
do not occupy.” 

“I am glad to hear you say so; and now, having done this 
much, why can you not go a step further, and include my 
humble self in the number of your friends and well-wishers?” 

“ Why, I trust you are not an enemy, save in a national point 
of view.” 

“Miss Burrell,” said the Colonel, thoughtfully, “excuse 
my impudence, but allow me to ask a question upon which I 
feel a considerable degree of curiosity. I think I have a right 
to know. Have you ever hvedf^ 

“Colonel Ellsworth,” said the girl, with moistening eyes, as 
the thought of Henry Winston flashed over her, and caused 
her pale face to redden like a delicate rose blushing by moon- 
light, “/ have loved, and,” said she, with artless candor, 
“behold the result in these pale cheeks, these sunken eyes, 
and this wasting form. Let this confession, wrung from a 
bleeding heart, convince you that I can never love again.'' 

“ And what kind of a person had the happiness to win your 
affection?” asked the officer, without noticing her emotion, 
“What was his form?” 

“Bather tall, and straight as an arrow.” 

“What kind of features?” 

“Deep azure eyes; a bold, broad forehead; a small Grecian 
nose; a firm, well-set mouth; and a face withal you could not 
pass without stopping to take the second look.” 


280 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“A rather remarkable personage; but,” said the Colonel, 
fixing his eyes upon her face, “where to-night is your beau- 
ideair 

“0, Colonel Ellsworth, question me not on this subject. It 
makes my wound bleed afresh.” 

Colonel Ellsworth formed the conclusion that her lover was 
dead; or, if not, he had nothing to fear from that quarter. 

“Pardon me, Miss Burrell, if my curiosity has forced me 
beyond the limits of true politeness. Yours, I see, is a sad 
history, and I assure you I deeply sympathize in the evident 
Bufrering of a heart disappointed in the beginning of life. 
But if you go on thus, unhappy young lady, to repine over 
past grief and sorrow, you will tread upon thorns even to the 
brink of the tomb.” 

“I need not be told of that. Colonel Ellsworth. My hap- 
piness is all gone. My pathway is strewn with withered 
flowers ; and I look upon death only to release me from 
the weight of troubles I can not endure.” 

“My dear Miss Burrell,” exclaimed the officer, with great 
earnestness, “let me win you back to life and happiness. 
Throw not thus away the noble gifts of mind with which Grod 
in his wisdom has endowed you. Waste not the bloom of 
your womanhood and the affections of your tender heart in 
useless repinings and regrets over past disappointments. 
Come back to this beautiful earth which can be made a 
paradise. The bright world is before you with all its charms. 
They are placed here for the pleasure of man, and the 
Almighty never intended that his creatures should pass 
through life in sorrow, totally indifferent to the bright, gay 
flowers blooming in beauty around. It is sinful to shut our 
eyes in stoical indifference to the brilliant scenes the world 
presents, when God made them to please the eye and gratify 
the taste. No one has the right to withdraw himself from 
society, and waste the powers of an extraordinary mind in 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


281 


unavailing sorrow, when his influence and his talent might 
contribute so much to the improvement of* man and the ad- 
vancement of God’s glory. Be mine, then; seal my happi- 
ness this night. I will lay my fortune, my all, at your feet!” 

“Colonel Ellsworth,” cried Emily, interrupting, “cease this 
talk. You know not to whom you are speaking; besides, 
your words are thrown away. Let us leave this place.” 

“Before we part. Miss Burrell, promise me that I may call 
upon you two weeks from to-night.” 

“Why, certainly. Colonel Ellsworth, if it will afford you 
any pleasure. I am not in the habit of receiving company, 
but I will violate my rule once in your favor. It is, though, 
upon the express condition that you are not to mention this 
unpleasant subject again.” 

The officer sighed. Emily was escorted to the room she 
had left, and Colonel Ellsworth bade her good night; then, 
seizing his hat, he left the apartment and rushed into the 
street. He had met with an enigma he could not understand; 
but yet he madly worshiped the strange enthusiastic girl, who 
appeared to him like the visitation of some heathen goddess 
described by the pen of Virgil or Homer. That night he 
dreamed of the battles in which he had flgured, and he saw 
a pale, beautiful creature in the thickest of the flght, entreat- 
ing him not to spill the blood of her oppressed countrymen. 
The intense vividness of the dream caused him to awake. 
Before he slept again, he made a vow, which is recorded in 
heaven. The sequel will show he was true to his word and 
paid his vow. 


282 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER XX. 

“Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself 
Are much condemned to have an itching palm; 

To sell and mart your offices for gold 
To undeservers.” 

We will now return to the spy. Having narrowly escaped 
an ignominious death, as ‘described in a previous chapter, he 
reported, as soon as practicable, at the head-quarters of General 
Johnston, in obedience to orders received from that oflScer. 
His services were now. needed in a higher but more danger- 
ous field of labor. During the time Winston had been acting 
in the capacity of a spy, he had rendered important service to 
the Confederacy. The information which he very frequently 
gave prevented many military disasters, and contributed 
greatly to the achievement of victories. Yet the names of 
our distinguished chieftains will be engraved in brass and 
chiseled in'marble, while that of the humble spy will not find 
a lodgment even in some obscure corner of history. The 
southern people know not what a debt of gratitude they owe 
to this class of men, who have risked so much without the 
prospect of reward, and without the chance of preferment and 
promotion within the reach of every private soldier. If 
justice were done these self-sacrificing men, it would be found 
that they are as indispensable to successful military operations 
as the commanders of armies. 

We have not time or space now to enter into particularities 
and to specialize all the secret services rendered by Henry 
Winston. Suffice it to say that he had done much for the 
cause of independence; and that while he was little known to 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


283 


the great mass of the soldiers, yet among the general officers 
he was recognized as a man of most remarkable and extra- 
ordinary ability. In fact, in the year 1863, he was the most 
reliable spy within the limits of the Confederate States. But, 
as we have said, his talents were now to be exercised in a 
position in which he could do an incalculable amount of 
good. Soon after reporting to General Johnston, he was 
ordered by that distinguished officer to proceed without delay 
to Richmond, and receive instructions from President Davis. 
In compliance with this order, a few months before the spring 
and summer campaigns of the year 1864, Winston was alone 
one night with the President of the Confederate States. Our 
limits will not allow a narration of all that passed. The 
President, we will say, was well pleased with the spy who 
had so frequently imperiled his life for the good of the 
Confederacy, and he listened with much attention to Winston’s 
opinion of the future programme of the Federal Government. 
Mr. Davis was also thinking of something else which showed 
his sound judgment of men. But we will not anticipate. 

“The country, Mr. Winston,” remarked President Davis, 
“is under lasting obligation for the invaluable services you 
have already performed. There is, however, much to do yet. 
You have acquitted yourself so creditably and honorably that 
I must request you to undertake a mission of vital importance 
to our cause.” 

The spy signified his willingness to perform any duty for 
which the President might think him qualified. 

“Your views,” continued Mr. Davis, “coincide exactly with 
mine in regard to the next campaign. But I would still pre- 
fer to have something more substantial than mere opinions 
upon which to base military operations. The enemy’s whole 
programme can, I think, be ascertained by a person of 
shrewdness and intelligence. The knowledge of Lincoln’s 
intentions at this time would prove of incalculable advantage. 


284 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


I would like much to know whether the enemy places a 
sufficient estimate upon Richmond to justify the concentra- 
tion of his whole force against this one point.” 

“ I think your excellency would hazard little in relying 
upon the information I have already obtained; but still, to 
make assurance doubly sure, I am perfectly willing to under- 
take to procure thoir whole programme, as far as it is de- 
veloped.” 

“ And to do this, Mr. Winston, it will be necessary for you 
to invade Washington City. You must, then, by some means 
ingratiate yourself into favor with some of the high officials, 
and you may learn from them all that will be necessary. Dr. 
Vernon, whose address I will give you, can aid you materially. 
He is a Confederate in the disguise of a Yankee surgeon.” 

“What man,” asked the spy, “would you suggest as the 
most suitable to become the ‘cat’s-paw?’” 

“I should not like to advise you upon that subject, for my 
advice might place you in a very embarrassing situation. The 
best plan will be to leave you free to act in accordance with 
the dictates of your own judgment. You will have to be 
governed by circumstances altogether; and the man whom I 
would probably suggest might be very difficult of access.” 

“ It may not be amiss, then, to tell your excellency that I 
have been thinking of a character, and I would like to have 
your opinion of my selection. It is Lincoln himself” 

“I fear that will be a troublesome undertaking; but Lin- 
coln is a plain, blunt man, and can be managed more easily 
than Seward. If you can only obtain some position which 
would allow you to approach him freely, he would be a very 
proper personage for your purposes.” 

“If my usual good fortune attends me,” said the spy, “I 
shall be able, in less than two months, to furnish you all the 
information you may require.” 

“You have been remarkably successful heretofore, Mr. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


285 


Winston, and have aided our generals to a great extent in 
thwarting the schemes of the enemy. Besides, I am under 
personal obligations to you, as I learn from General John- 
ston, for having probably saved my life. The wicked plot of 
Robespierre’s, which you discovered, would no doubt have 
been carried out, and our country would have sustained an 
irreparable loss in General Lee, Hill, and others. We are 
contending with an inhuman foe, Mr. Winston. I am sur- 
prised that some of our people are talking of reconstruction; 
as for myself, having once cut loose from the despicable race 
of hypocrites and Pharisees, I would as soon trust myself in 
a den of thieves as to form a union with them again. I can 
not see how any man can be in favor of such a movement. 
After three years of privations and hardships, it would now be 
an eternal disgrace to our people to lay down their arms and 
quietly submit to the humiliating terms imposed by a proud, 
boastful despot. Our people are too easily discouraged and 
disheartened by disasters. Independence is within their 
reach, if they will only stand firm till Lincoln and his fol- 
lowers shall see the folly of a further prosecution of the war, 
and shall desist from this unholy purpose of subjugation. I 
foresee, from the alternations of success which have character- 
ized the contest, that the next year will be marked by great 
reverses. Our citizens will then be dejected, and the de- 
moralization will spread to the army. There will be general, 
discontent and disafiection, and a disposition to abandon the 
principles of freedom which we pledged our fortunes and our 
sacred honors to maintain. At this juncture the danger will 
be that the enemy may take advantage of our momentary 
despondency, and propose some disgraceful terms of compro- 
mise which our despairing people may be disposed to accept. 
And if they should,” continued the President with consider- 
able vehemence of manner, “ they will live to regret their 
folly ; but it will be when they are bound hand and foot, and 


286 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


a Nero rejoices over their political and social degradation. I 
say they^ Mr. Winston, because I do not include myself in the 
number of those who will manifest a disposition to recon- 
struct. My course is marked out clearly and distinctly ; and, 
so help me heaven, this hand shall be severed from my body 
before it shall subscribe to any treaty or instrument, acknowl- 
edging the downfall of this Confederacy, and entailing misery, 
ruin, and infamy on its deluded citizens.” And the President 
paused and looked thoughtful and serious. 

“If,” said the spy, “my study of Yankee character has not 
been in vain, Lincoln will never propose any terms the south- 
ern people would be willing to accept. I venture to predict 
that his first and last proposition will be unconditional sub- 
mission.” 

“I hope you may be right, Mr. Winston,” replied the Pres- 
ident, looking thoughtfully into his face — “I hope you may 
be right; and I myself am inclined to the same opinion. I 
would even make some proposition to the Federal Govern- 
ment, in the certainty of its being rejected, merely to convince 
our people of the absurdity of the idea of a restoration of 
the Union, but for the moral effect such a step would have 
upon our enemies, Europe, and our own people. But this 
reminds me that I have omitted to communicate to you some- 
thing in regard to this subject which may be of great use in 
Washington. I need not say to a man of your sound prac- 
tical sense and intelligence that this is one of the political 
secrets with which only a few must he intrusted.” 

The President drew nearer to where the spy sat, but spoke 
in such a low. tone of voice that his words could not be distin- 
guished by any outside listener. After talking thus for some 
few moments, they were disturbed by a rap at the door. 
However, Mr. Davis had now communicated all he thought 
necessary, and the spy took his departure. 

We can not follow Henry Winston through all the various 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


287 


little incidents which transpired between the two capitals — 
Richmond and Washington. He met wdth many exciting ad- 
ventures, which would be highly interesting to the reader, but 
would swell this volume beyond its intended limits. In seven 
days after his interview with President Davis, the spy was in 
Washington City. And now commenced a series of the most 
remarkable occurrences ever contained in the unwritten annals 
of espionage. The next day after his arrival Winston visited 
Mr. Chase, and showed to that worthy testimonials as to char- 
acter and qualifications in which not a single flaw could be 
detected. They were signed by well-known citizens of New 
York. The intention of the spy was to procure a situation 
with some of the cabinet officers until he could work himself 
into the good graces of Mr. Lincoln. Chase, in answer to 
the spy’s petition, replied that he had no place at present, but 
if Mr. Smith (the assumed named of Winston) would call 
when a vacancy should occur, he would be happy that Mr. 
Smith should fill it. The spy next called upon the Post- 
master-general, who was very much pleased with our hero’s 
personal appearance; but who still pleaded Mr. Chase’s ex- 
cuse, and made the same promise. 

“I would advise you, though,” said the Postmaster, as he 
was about leaving, “to see Mr. Seward.” 

The spy thought he would not follow the officer’s advice 
until he should consult with Dr. Vernon, the surgeon to 
whom he had been referred by President Davis. That gen- 
tleman, who was in the employ of both governments, but who 
wa.s faithful only to the Confederacy, was soon found. After 
satisfying himself that the spy was no impostor or detective, 
and after listening to his account of his ill success with Mr. 
Chase and the Postmaster-general, the Doctor remarked: 

•“ It was well you came to me as soon as you did, for with 
your modus operandi you never would have found a place. 
You are too honest, Mr. Smith (as I must call you), you are 


288 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


too honest to succeed with Yankees. Tell a Yankee that 
‘honesty is the best policy,’ and he will set you down for a 
fool. Positions are obtained here with money. Gold will 
buy any thing from a Yankee.” 

“I know that, Doctor; but I felt doubtful about trying its 
effects upon many high in office, like Chase and others.” 

“Pooh! Chase and others are no better than the common 
herd. They will jump at five cents with as much avidity as 
any rear-rank private in their army would. Why, for gold 
the best of them can be induced to sell the fee-simple to their 
souls. Now, when you present your testimonials to Seward, 
put among them, as if by accident, a pair of golden eagles, 
and I will insure you will get a situation. It will take twenty 
dollars to bribe Seward. If that, however, does not buy him, 
double it, and he will give you a position.” 

After some further conversation with Dr. Vernon, the spy 
proceeded to the office of Secretary Seward. Before present- 
ing his testimonials, he took the precaution to deposit in one 
corner of the papers a couple of shining pieces of yellow 
metal. Mr. Seward received the documents, and his face 
brightened when he discovered they were not destitute of 
weight. Winston watched as closely as prudence and pro- 
priety would allow, but the officer was so dexterous and sly 
that the spy saw not by what a skillful maneuver the gold was 
taken out, but he heard the two pieces as they fell with a 
slight musical jingle to the bottom of Secretary Seward’s 
pocket. No juggler could have performed the trick with 
more dexterity. 

“So you want a place, Mr. Smith? You come well recom- 
mended as an intelligent, honest young man;” and at the 
word honest the Secretary slyly thrust his hand into his 
pocket and felt the weight of the two eagles, in order to dis- 
cover if the honest young man had not imposed spurious coin 
upon him. He, however, seemed satisfied with this manipu- 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


289 


latioQ test of the docimastic art, and then, continued: “‘Hon- 
esty is the best policy,’ Mr. Smith ; and I am glad to find that 
you are honest;” by which declaration he referred more to the 
genuineness of Winston’s two golden eagles than to any other 
evidence of the spy’s integrity. 

“I have many applications of this sort, Mr. Smith; but, 
nevertheless, I will take pleasure in assisting you. I have no 
vacant position at present, but the President, I learned to-day, 
is in need of a secretary. If you want the place, I will speak 
to Mr. Lincoln, and I doubt not you will get it.” 

The spy expressed himself satisfied, and under obligations, 
and then promised to call next morning, according to Seward’s 
request. Having now, as he believed, succeeded in obtaining 
the situation he so much desired,' with less difficulty than he 
expected, his next care was to find a boarding-house conven- 
ient to his place of business. This was soon done; and the 
remainder of the day was spent in examining the fortifications 
around the city. That night the spy again visited Dr. Vernon, 
in order to perfect the arrangements of secret communication 
between them, after which their acquaintance was to cease, in 
appearance at least. The next day Winston was installed 
into office as a secretary of the President of the United States. 
All this happened about three weeks before the occurrence of 
the event recorded in the preceding chapter. After a resi- 
dence of that length of time in the Federal capital, the spy 
had not learned that Emily Burrell was a temporary inhab- 
itant of the same city. During the night of the party, which 
she attended, Winston was sitting in his room, gazing out 
thoughtfully upon the moonlit city. He was, however, not 
thinking of the brilliant scene before him. His mind had 
wandered far back into the days of childhood, and was tracing 
out, one by one, the incidents of his eventful and checkered 
life. The year 1860 was reached. He saw Emily Burrell, 
and poured out the affections of his whole nature upon the 

19 


290 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


beautiful girl. At the very moment she was, with sadness 
giving a brief description of his personality to Colonel Ells- 
worth, Winston heaved a deep sigh, and then banished the 
painful subject from his mind. Had he known her locality 
and her unchanged feelings toward himself, this history would 
probably have terminated in a diiferent manner. But he 
knew it not, and he was hastened on by an invisible power to 
the events of his remarkable life. 

The spy had now been three weeks a secretary of Mr. Lin- 
coln. Although he had studied the character of the Presi- 
dent closely, and had endeavored to draw him out upon the 
war, yet Abraham had thus far eluded all of his cunningly 
laid snares; and, save an expression of opinion in general 
terms, such as he could hear upon the streets every day, Win- 
ston had gathered few items that would suit his purposes. 
But all men have their faults; and one of Lincoln’s weak 
points was at last discovered. The President loved a good 
dram, though he was not a habitual drunkard. Our hero 
procured a bottle of the very best wine the city of Washing 
ton could furnish, and just before the entrance of Mr. Lin- 
coln into the ofl&ce drew forth the cork, that the fragrant 
fumes might have the “ desired effect.” Mr. Lincoln stopped 
in at his usual hour. It happened that nobody was in the 
room but himself and Winston. Presently the chief execu- 
tive laid aside his pen. He could stand it no longer. 

“Smith,” said he, rubbing his great fists, “what is that 
which smells so sweetly? It reminds me of the fabled nectar 
of the ancient gods of Grreece.” 

“Well may your excellency call it nectar,” quickly re- 
marked the spy, handing the bottle. “It is wine of a most 
rare and excellent quality. 

‘One sip of this 

Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight, 

Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste.’” 


THE jCONFEDERATE SPY. 


291 


“You are a sly dog, Smith,” punching him good-humoredly 
in the side, “to tempt me thus with Milton. I fear you are a 
wicked boy; but here ’s to your health.” And raising the 
glass with his huge hand, he quaffed down the sparkling bev- 
erage. His excellency then resumed his pen, and commenced 
igain to write; but the merry god Bacchus was playing havoc 
with his mental machinery. 

“Smith,” said the President, throwing down his pen in a 
very energetic manner, “hand us some more of that heavenly 
juice. I can quote poetry, too. Smith, as well as you. Here 
goes: 

‘Wine — bring wine! 

Let the crystal beaker flame and shine, 

Brimming o’er with the draught divine j 
Not from the Rhine — 

Not from the fields of Burgundian vine — 

Bring on the bright Olympian winel’ 

Smith — I am glad your name is Smith. I like a name which 
can be easily remembered. I abominate long, uncommon 
names. I was some time ago introduced to an English lord 
by the name of Hartington, and I told his lordship that I 
could recollect his name only by its similarity to Partington, 
which seemed to plague the peer considerably.” The Presi- 
dent turned off the third glass, and gulped it down with a 
noise somewhat similar to that made by water running from a 
tank into a steam-engine. “Smith, it was lucky you came to 
me to find a place. Not many young men have the same ac- 
cess to the President of the United States that you have.” 

“I feel very highly fiattered by your excellency’s ready 
acceptance of my humble services, and I am honored, I fear, 
beyond my deserts, to be upon such intimate terms with the 
most erudite, most distinguished, and greatest statesman of 
the age.” 

“You are a young man of parts, Smith — excellent parts; 
and I saw at a glance that your discernment and judgment 


292 


THE CONFEDERATE SF. 


were good, and I employed you because I love to give an 
honest, sober, steady young man a start in life. I have had a 
‘ hard row to weed,’ Smith, in my young days — split rails, you 
know — worked on a flat-boat. I ’m proud of it. Smith, be- 
cause it shows conclusively that if I surmounted all these dif- 
flcullies, and made my way up to the very highest political 
position in this glorious land, there is something more tha^r 
•*,ommon ability about me. 

^ Honor and shame from no condition rise; 

Act well your part, there all the honor lies.’ 

Never be ashamed. Smith, of honest labor. Some of the very 
greatest men of the world were necessitated to labor in their 
boyhood days — such as Ben Franklin, Dan Webster, Henry 
Clay, and in latter times, Abe Lincoln” — poking Smith in 
the side — “and Andy Johnson. Genius, Smith — ^genius is 
a great thing. You can’t keep it down in this God-favored 
country. Hem it in, surround it with difiSculties, yet it will 
rise by its own innate energy and power, and make itself 
known and felt. Smith, old boy, go ahead — press right on, 
you will make a man yet; and if you should ever get into a 
strait, call on ‘Honest Old Abe.’” Smith received another 
punch in the side. 

“Thougn I confess to some ambition,” replied Winston, 
“ yet I can never aspire to the dignifled position to which your 
excellency’s genius and talent unaided have raised you. Even 
if i. should, I could never hope to gain as much glory and 
world-wide fame as you have reaped from this bloody war.” 

“Ah, Smith, this is indeed a bloody war — it’s a big war — 
a much bigger one than I ever expected to see. I wish it was 
ended. I have tried hard to bring it to a peaceable and hon- 
orable close. T would have no objection to some other man’s 
trying his hand at a job of pacification. But I do n’t think 
I can offer any terms now. It would result in no good. The 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


293 


insurgent leader would listen to no conditions save a severance 
of the Union, and that we can not stand. My proclamation 
of last January stands open yet, and all the rebels who are in 
a condition to make a choice can avail themselves of its mer- 
ciful provisions. I fear it will be necessary, in the course of 
time, to withdraw even that favorable proposition, and adopt a 
system of severity toward the insurgents which makes my 
heart bleed to think about it. But we must succeed in re- 
storing the Union, even if the whole South has to be extermi- 
nated. We have lost too much now, and our debt is too large 
to acknowledge the independence of my old friend Jeff’s little 
Confederacy. The South must pay the expense of this piece 
of luxury. I shall fight it out, and if go down I must’, I will 
go with fiying colors.” 

“I trust your excellency is sanguine of ultimate success?” 
said Winston. 

“Well, I say so in all niy messages and public documents; 
but it reminds me, or rather my experience reminds me, of a 
man whom I once knew out in Illinois.” Here he related a 
long anecdote, which we have not time to record. “Well, 
now. Smith,” continued the President, after a hearty laugh at 
the end of his story, “that’s my case exactly. I’m some- 
times up and sometimes down. I have moments of despond- 
ency, and I sometimes feel like letting the rebels go with their 
bantling of a government. But there ’s too much at stake to 
back down now. If, in the beginning of the war, or rather 
before it commenced, I had had any idea the insurgents would 
have made such a stubborn resistance, I believe I should have 
concluded that ‘discretion is the better part of valor,’ and 
have submitted to a dissolution of the Union. But, Lord! I 
can’t do that now; my name would be handed down to eternal 
infamy. No, Smith, I mmt whip; I will whip them; and, mark 
it. Smith, I shall whip them!” and Smith received a most 
tremendous poke in his ribs. 


294 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“I suppose your excellency’s plans are all well laid, and 
will no doubt succeed admirably.” 

‘‘I rather think the ‘secesh,’ as our boys call them, will be 
taken by surprise next spring. They are expecting that I 
will sacrifice every thing for Richmond. I did want Richmond 
once, but there were too many ‘sour grapes’ growing in its 
vicinity, and I don’t care so much about it now;” and he 
broke out into a horse-laugh. “But I will get Richmond yet; 
not by a direct attack, though; that is, I will not stake all 
upon the rebel capital. I shall first demolish the insurgent 
army in Georgia, cut off all communication from my friend 
JeflTs home, and Richmond will then die a natural death.” 

Mr. Lincoln was thus rattling away, giving all the details of 
the next campaign, when Secretary Seward stepped in. That 
wily old politician looked in astonishment at this unusual and 
undignified spectacle. At last he could endure no longer to 
hear the President’s maudlin expose of state secrets. 

“I hope, Mr. Lincoln,” said the Secretary, in a tone indica- 
ting surprise and mortification, “ that you have not forgotten 
who and what you are. If you have, I beg you not to at- 
tempt, in your merry moods, the discussion of questions of 
state policy, and especially the divulging of state secrets, 
which are in the keeping of the proper officers.” 

“Smith!” cried Mr. Lincoln, “tell me the name of the 
President of these United States!” 

“The Hon. Abraham Lincoln, of course.” 

“Very well. Mr. Seward, Smith says / am President. If 
so, I ought to have sense enough to steer the old ship of 
state. Efrgo^ keep your advice to yourself. You remind me 
of the fable of the frog and the ox. The frog commenced 
swelling and puffing out in the vain attempt to attain to the 
size of the ox; the consequence was, he split wide open. 
Now, Bill Seward, for the application. I was elected, sir, to 
the important position of President of these United States, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


295 


by the people of these United States, sir, and it is not pre- 
suming too much to say that they must have supposed the 
man of their choice to be endowed with sufl&cient capacity to 
transact the affairs of this great government. And I have yet 
to be made aware of the fact that they have appointed an 
adviser for my special benefit. People who try to swell up 
till they are as large as some others, may happen to meet 
with the fate of the unfortunate frog.” 

“I am not so certain,” said Seward very coolly, “that the 
people of these United States did not commit a most flagrant 
blunder, and, instead of an enlightened, dignified statesman, 
stuck up into the chair of the chief magistracy a circus jester 
or a baboon.” 

“ You remind me very much of a man out in Illinois,” said 
Mr. Lincoln, seeming not to notice the last remark of Seward; 
and he related another long anecdote. “Now then,” he con- 
tinued, “for the application. William H. Seward should have 
been President of these United States, and not Abraham Lin- 
coln. But come, Seward; come, old fellow, there’s no us<; of 
hard words and ugly names,” said the President suddenly 
changing his manner. “There ought to be no private quar- 
rels among government officials while this great national diffi- 
culty is going on.’ Let us all put our shoulders to the wheel, 
and every man repair to his post. I am President of the 
TJnited States; the free people, the sovereign people, saw 
proper to put me in that position. They must, of course, 
have thought that I was best qualified for that place. To 
you they have assigned a duty somewhat more humble than 
mine, but nevertheless a duty you ought to perform with 
fidelity. As for myself, I think I can paddle my own canoe 
without unasked assistance.” 

“And as for myself,” said the Secretary, “you can have 
the pleasure of paddling your own canoe. I notify you that 
to-morrow I shall tender my resignation. You can now 


296 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


select my successor.” The mortified oflGicial withdrew in 
supreme contempt and disgust. 

“ That ’s a sly old fox, Smith — a smooth, oily-tongued poli- 
tician; but nevertheless a man of considerable talent, and one 
whose services could not be dispensed with at this time.” 

“What will your excellency do, then, when he offers his 
resignation?” 

“Ha, ha, ha! I say, offer his resignation! He has no more 
idea of that than of flying to Hichmond. He frequently 
threatens me in this way. He reminds me of one of HUsop’s 
fables — that one about old Mercury, when he assumed a hu- 
man form and visited the habitations of mortals to find out in 
what estimation he was held among men. That’s just Sew- 
ard’s way of testing his popularity and importance. Some 
time I shall treat him just like the shop-keeper treated Mer- 
cury. Resign indeed! Why he’d resign half kis soul first. 
Billy Seward is too fond of office for that. He is an old 
office-seeker. Smith. It has been the grand business of his 
life. He has studied the art day and night, and understands 
it to perfection ; but still he is a man of powerful mind, and 
was once looked upon as the great leader, the exponent of 
the Republican party. It was thought at one time that he 
would be Mr. Buchanan’s successor, but when the day arrived 
for the selection to be made it was discovered that honest old 
Abe Lincoln was best qualified;” and he nudged Smith again 
in the side. “Smith, I will tell you the fact, the people like 
self-made men the best — and why? Because they are gen- 
erally honest men — men of nerve and energy of character. I 
tell you it takes a man of unusual and extraordinary intel- 
lectual capacity to walk right up, over the heads of ten thou- 
sand and one aspirants, into the upper story. There is 
always room in the upper story, as Mr. Webster says. GTet 
into the upper story. Smith, get into the upper story, and 
you will always have plenty of room.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


297 


“No doubt your excelleucy has plenty of room in the upper 
story; for the present age is furnishing few men of dis- 
tinction.” 

“That’s so, Smith. The present age is rather scarce of 
great men. There are some, however, who deserve an honor- 
able place in history. Even the rebels can point to a few 
who are worthy of the fame they have acquired. There is 
that old hoary-headed sinner. Bob Lee, for instance. He is 
the very life and soul of the rebellion. I would willingly give 
one hundred thousand men if he were on our side, or to get 
him on neutral ground. He has already been the death of 
twice, that number. I look upon him as a much greater man 
than Jeff Davis; that is, he is a greater general than Jeff 
could be. Jeff, however, is not a man to be ‘grinned at,’ 
as somebody says. He has the stubbornness of a mule and 
the sullenness of an opossum. He would not make half as 
good a diplomat^ though,, as that crafty little dwarf of a Ste- 
phens. Jeff wants to get up a great character for honesty. 
To do this he has made exposures of the military conditions 
of affairs in the South, which I never would have made had I 
been in his place. He is too weak for that bold game. He 
ought to use more strategy. I guess I could beat Jeff at a 
game of chess. Smith. I am rather inclined to the opinion 
that I would be a great strategist, and sometimes I have half 
a notion to take the field. Grant is a poor strategist. He 
loses too many men, and accomplishes nothing by it. 1 be- 
lieve I could crush the rebellion sooner by taking immediate 
command of the army.” 

“Doubtless your excellency would be a very distinguished 
chieftain. Your plans, as far as I have learned them, for the 
next campaign are indicative of an amazing knowledge of 
military science. I doubt not the rest are equally as good.” 

“I did not communicate the whole of my plans. Smith; 
and probably, as Seward said, it would be best not to do it.” 


298 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Your excellency is as good a judge of what is right and 
proper as Secretary Seward.” 

“ That ’s so ; but old Bill knew that something had loosened 
both ends of my tongue, and he did not want me to divulge 
too much.” 

“I think it was a most excellent hit,” said the spy, who was 
now fearful that Mr. Lincoln would follow Seward’s advice, 
“when you told him that he had not been appointed your 
special adviser. It nettled him considerably. If your excel- 
lency saw proper to talk with a friend about military matters, 
it seems to me he was rather presumptuous in meddling; and, 
if you should choose now to reveal the remainder of your 
deep-laid plans to one who is deeply interested in your excel- 
lency’s success, I do not think it would be his business to 
dictate what you should say.” 

“That’s so; but you must not speak disrespectfully of a 
government official, especially one high in office like Secretary 
Seward. However, you seem so deeply interested in my plans 
that I will disclose them to you at some future time, to show 
you how I can solve the problem of the rebellion.” 

“I assure you that no one could take greater interest in 
your excellency’s solution of the knotty difficulty than I 
would. I should Kke so much to hear it while your excel- 
lency seems to be at leisure. If it is postponed, you may not 
have an hour or so to talk with me, and I should lose the 
benefit of your instruction.” 

“Not now. Smith, not now; I am not in a condition to do 
the problem justice. But I will- tell you, I will beat Mr. 
Jefi" at the game of war. He can never force Abraham Lin- 
coln, the President of these United States, to recognize the 
independence of the so-called Confederate States. No, sir; 
not so long as I can find a soldier who has patriotism enough 
to fight. It is a sort of a Kilkenny cat fight; but, as General 
Grant says, our cat has the longest tail, and consequently 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


299 


we will worry out the insurgents in the course of time. They 
are becoming very tired of it now. Next year, I think, they 
will accept peace upon any terms. The only condition upon 
which I will ever agree to the reconstruction of the Union, is 
the abolition of slavery, and a voluntary return to the good 
old Union under such regulations as I shall prescribe. The 
majority of the rebels — ^that is, the ‘small fry’ — shall be par- 
doned at once, and the executive authority will be used with 
clemency and liberality toward the balance. But, then, some- 
body must suffer for this rebellion; somebody must pay the 
penalty of high treason ; but it will be only those who got up 
the rebellion and have sustained it — who have kept the ball in 
motion since its commencement. After that the rebels must 
pay the whole of the war debt, and furnish homes to my des- 
titute soldiers, who have covered themselves with glory and 
honor in this mighty struggle. Then the era of peace and 
prosperity will begin; our whole nation will be free, blacks 
and all; and in a hundred years no traces of this horrible con- 
test can be found, except the blessed results which must grow 
out of it; and the name of Abraham Lincoln, as Billy Seward 
says, will be handed down to posterity, along with that of 
Wilberforce and others, as a benefactor of the human race. 
But I have been talking to you too long. Smith. I must go 
and chat Mrs. Lincoln awhile.” And, without more ado, his 
excellency went staggering out of the room. 

The spy, who saw that he could gain nothing further from 
the drunken official, made no attempt to detain him; but let 
him go, with the intention of pumpinig him at some future 
time, when his plans would be more fully matured. Our hero 
had gained much valuable information from the President, 
and had placed himself in a position to glean still more; and 
he resolved to wait with patience until Mr. Lincoln should be 
seized with another communicative humor. An unfortunate 
accident prevented the arrival of that time. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


r>oo 


CHAPTER XXI. 

“Thou art come to answer 
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch, 

Incapable of pity, void and empty. 

From every dram of mercy.” 

Very unluckily for the success of Winston’s plans General 
'Robespierre arrived in Washington City two days after Mr. 
Lincoln’s little “spree.” It was now necessary for the spy to 
absent himself from all places in which he would be likely to 
meet with his former employer. This was done under pre- 
tense of sickness. The spy had, before this, taken precau- 
tions to be seen as little as possible in public; for he had 
seen Walter Hallam once or twice, though at a distance. 
But, nevertheless, he had been watched, as will be seen in the 
course of this chapter. 

The very next day after Robespierre’s arrival, he, Mr. Lin- 
coln, and Secretary Seward were seated in secret conclave. 
The reader must have, incidentally to our story, the consulta- 
tion of this interesting trio, or at least a portion of it. 

“I suppose,” said Robespierre, addressing himself to the 
President, “you received a communication from me a short 
time since in regard to a very particular subject — a darling 
scheme of mine?” 

“I did; but I did not choose to give an answer upon my 
own responsibility without the advice of some of the cabinet 
officers. I have been so pressed for time by other weightier 
matters that I have not had an opportunity to reflect upon 
your proposition. I am doubtful of its success, though. I, 
however, showed your letter to Secretary Seward, and he may 
be prepared to express an opinion.” . 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


301 


“The enterprise,” said the crafty Secretary, with a shrug of 
the shoulders, “will be attended with considerable difficulty, 
and whether it should be successful or not, if the plot should 
ever be discovered, the Government of the United States 
would be eternally disgraced in the eyes of all nations. The 
truth is, we have already violated over half the recognized 
laws and usages of civilized warfare. If we had been at war 
with any other people but the southern rebels, our total disre- 
gard of international law, and our wholesale trespass upon the 
common rights of belligerents, would have aroused the wrath 
and indignation of combined Europe against us. From the 
fact, though, that the South holds on to the accursed institu- 
tion of slavery, she is hated by nearly all enlightened nations; 
and, in consequence, our violations of the established usages 
of war have been connived at. But there must be a limit to 
our transgressions. The world will not always look on in 
silence. It has already extended to us unexpected charity. 
If we now stoop to such an act of national degradation as 
you desire, the cry of persecution and foul play may be raised 
against us, and the tide of sympathy may be turned in favor 
of our enemies. It will be rather a dangerous experiment, 
and I think we had better let it alone.” 

“ My opinion, General Robespierre, is that Secretary Seward 
is right, and I agree with him.” 

“Gentlemen,” was the reply of General Robespierre, “I 
admit that the opinion expressed by Secretary Seward, and 
concurred in by your excellency, is a strong argument against ' 
the scheme. The plot has its objections as well as its advan- 
tages. But the strongest argument in its favor is that the 
rebellion must be put down. If it can not be done in one 
way, it must be done in another. If we do not succeed, we 
are politically and socially damned. We will sink below a 
fifth-rate in the scale of nations^ and will become a prey to 
the ambition of every petty kingdom of Europe. If we fail, 


302 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


our prosperity and our glory will be overwhelmed by a moun- 
tain of debt.” 

“That’s so!” cried Lincoln, interrupting; “that’s so. It 
is much easier, I find, to pay a large debt than a larger one, 
and if we fail our debt will certainly swell into the compara- 
tive degree of large.” And with that his excellency laughed 
immoderately at this self-evident proposition, which no 
political economist ever advanced before. Secretary Seward 
could not repress a smile of contempt at the President’s silly 
witticism. 

^‘Yes,” replied Robespierre, humoring Mr. Lincoln by 
joining in the laugh; “the debt will not stop at the com- 
parative degree. It will scarcely be contained in a double 
superlative. You will also find, when it comes to be paid, it 
will be put in the objective case, too.” 

“It reminds me very much,” said Lincoln, “of a case which 
once came before our court out in Illinois. A neighbor called 
in my oflBce one day, who owed a large debt, with the prospect 
of its growing larger;" and his excellency related a long silly 
anecdote, which is not worth recording. Robespierre appeared 
to listen with due respect and attention, but Seward, who had 
heard Mr. Lincoln’s jokes and jests thrice and four times 
repeated, kept his seat in indifference and nonchalance. 

“I think,” said Robespierre, resuming the original topic, 
after Mr. Lincoln had finished his story, “ that if we could get 
rid of Jeff Davis, and some others whom I oould name, we 
would easily crush the rebellion in a short space of time. 
But as long as Davis is President of the so-called Confed- 
eracy, we never can succeed. It will be necessary to resort 
to extreme measures.” 

“I am fearful,” replied President Lincoln, “that I will have 
to adopt a different line of policy — a new and severe mode of 
treatment; and I can not but feel doubtful of the effect such 
a course will have. If Davis and others, as you say. General 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


303 


Robespierre, were out of the way, I should be much more 
sanguine of success. I admit the cat ought to be belled ; but 
who is to do it?” 

“ I thought you understood that very clearly. I proposed 
that I myself would ‘bell the cat.’ and I suggested the means 
by which I would accomplish my object.” 

“ It seems to me, General Robespierre,” said the Secretary, 
who had been silent all the time, “that you are pursuing 
rather a strange course. If you can put these men hors du 
combat as easily as you appear to think, why do you not carry 
out your darling scheme without the knowledge, much less the 
consent, of the government? I do not see that the sanction 
of the chief executive would be of the least assistance to you 
in the execution of your project.” 

“Nor I either,” said Mr. Lincoln. “You remind me. Gen- 
eral Robespierre, of the fox that got his tail cut off. If you 
get into a difficulty and lose your tail, you want others to be 
in a condition to lose their tails also.” 

“No, sir; not that. But if I undertake this dirty job, 
rrumey will be necessary. I do not care any thing about the 
official sanction of the government. I only want to be fur- 
nished with money sufficient to accomplish the work.” 

“ Or, in other words,” replied Mr. Seward, with a significant 
smile, “ you want to be well paid for your trouble.” 

“ Of course I do. There are many risks to run.” 

“ I should think so. There might be some little danger of 
having the poisoned chalice commended to your own lips. It 
will certainly be a ‘two-handed game; and, if we commence it, 
the insurgents can practice it on a more extensive scale than 
we can. I confess I do not like the policy from several other 
considerations beside that of being continually in danger 
myself. I see from rebel papers that your plot has already 
been discovered, and you have already lost more of your own 
men than you have destroyed for the enemy. It is stated 


304 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY 


that you employed a man who could, without any difficulty, 
have administered to you a dose of medicine that might have 
done you more harm than good.” 

“It is true I did; but I shall be more on my guard in the 
future. I employed the fellow because he was a man of very 
prepossessing appearance, was well recommended by Fernando 
Wood and others of New York, and exactly suited me. 1 
am certain that no one would have taken him, with those re- 
markable blue eyes, honest, open countenance, iind smooth 
tongue, to have been a villain and a spy.” 

Mr. Lincoln started from his seat, and Seward cast upon 
him an inquisitive look, which seemed to say, “Have you not 
been in danger?” 

" “It*may be,” said the President, talking partly’ to himself 
and partly replying to the look of the Secretary; “it may be. 
He is recommended by the very same men General Robes- 
pierre mentioned, and suits the description. It must be the 
same.” 

As Winston’s ill-luck would have it, at this very moment a 
man stepped hastily into the room, after rapping on the door, 
and handed a note to Mr. Lincoln. It read as follows: 

Ilis Excellency^ President Lincoln: 

I have just learned that you have’a man in your employ by 
the name of Smith. I have seen the man, and I know him. 
His name is not Smith. Your excellency will doubtless be sur- 
prised to learn that this man is one of the most celebrated spies 
in the South. I have indubitable proofs of his rascality. I ap- 
peared against him once as a witness. He was condemned and 
sentenced to be hanged by a court-martial in Memphis, Tenn, 
I would see you personally in regard to this matter, but for rea- 
sons which I will explain as soon as the fellow is arrested. You 
would do well to have him arrested immediately. Lose not a 
single moment, or he may escape. If I do not substantiate the 
statement I have made, I will pay the forfeit. 

Your obedient servant, 

Walter Hallam, Capt. ^ C. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


305 


“My God!” cried Mr. Liacoln, as he thought uf the peril 
he might have been in; “General Robespierre, I doubt not 
this is the very man you employed!” and he handed the note 
to Robespierre. 

“I would advise you,” said Robespierre, returning the 
document to Mr. Lincoln, who gave it to Seward, “not to 
lose any time. Have him arrested, and if he is the same man 
I will know him.” 

“I would suggest,” said Mr. Seward, his lip curling with 
contempt, “ that as Mr. Smith is now in possession of valuable 
state secrets, communicated by your excellency, his immediate 
arrest is of vital importance to the government.” 

Mr. Lincoln reddened in the face; then rose without speak- 
ing and sallied from the office. After the lapse of a short 
time his excellency returned. 

“You have,” said the Secretary, inquiringly, “given orders 
to have the fellow arrested?” 

“ I have ordered him to be brought before us, to see if he 
can be identified by General Robespierre.” 

“ I fear your excellency did not act with your usual pru- 
dence in talking so freely to a comparative stranger.” 

“You remind me very much,” replied the President, “of 
the boy who was learning to swim, and was in danger of 
drowning. A traveler passed by, and began to reproach the 
youth for his folly in getting himself into such a predicament. 
‘Get me out first,’ said the boy, ‘and then chide me.’ So 
wait, Mr. Seward, until I get out of this difficulty, and then 
talk to me about imprudence, and so on.” 

“This circumstance,” said the Secretary, “I hope, will con- 
vince you. General Robespierre, of the impracticability of your 
scheme. But if you are determined to attempt it, I do not 
wish to be a party to such a doubtful enterprise, in which, 
it seems to me, there would be as many chances against us as 
for us.” 


20 


306 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Secretary Seward is right, General Robespierre. As for 
myself, I do not care about taking physic from the hands of 
rebels.” 

“Very well, then,” replied the General, “if this great de- 
sideratum is to be outweighed by personal fears, I am sure I 
have not so much at stake, in case we are defeated, as you two 
have. I have been under the impression that either of you 
would be willing to risk his life in order to re-establish the 
Union. I regret to say I am mistaken; I thought very dif- 
ferently of you both.” 

“We might,” replied Seward to this insinuation, with pro- 
voking coolness, “be more willing to engage in the project, if 

we expected to accumulate the snug little sum of , I say 

not how many thousand dollars.” 

“ That ’s so, Seward. There is another consideration be- 
side this. We would doubtless be in the condition of 
^sop’s geese and cranes. General Robespierre being lights 
might easily Jly away, and leave us to hold the bag.” 

“ As far as that is concerned,” said Robespierre, now show- 
ing somewhat the ire of his disposition, “I have gone as far 
into danger as either one of you, and have stayed as long, too. 
No living man has ever called my bravery in question.” 

There is no telling what might have been the result of this 
strange quarrel in high life, had it not been interrupted. 
Secretary Seward was on the point of replying, when the 
guard, dispatched by order of Mr. Lincoln, appeared with 
Henry Winston. Their entrance at once put an end to the 
wrangle of the three officials. The spy stood before them 
with an air of innocence that puzzled the trio of officers. 

“So ho!” exclaimed General Robespierre, “my friend Mr. 
Thompson, now metamorphosed into Smith, we have met 
again, under very interesting circumstances. When we last 
parted, I had no idea of seeing you again so soon ; but I feel 
very happy in forming the acquaintance of Mr. Smith. This, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 307 

sir/’ continued the General, turning to Mr. Lincoln, -‘is the 
same man, I would know him in any crowd.” 

“ You seem to have been in the employ of General Robes- 
pierre?” said Mr. Lincoln to the spy. 

“I was, sir.” 

“And what have you to say against his accusation?” 

“ I have heard no accusation, sir.” 

“ He accuses you of murder.” 

“Then I have to say that General Robespierre had the 
brutality to have me arrested at midnight, sentenced me to be 
hanged before sunrise, without giving me an opportunity to 
speak a single word in my own defense.” 

“Is this true. General Robespierre?” asked Mr. Lincoln. 

“ Certainly it is. The proof was too plain to admit the 
shadow of a doubt as to his guilt. His letter to the rebel 
General Johnston, was ample testimony to justify my course.” 

“There was no proof that I ever wrote such a letter; and 
should I have done so, it ought not to be taken as evidence of 
disloyalty that I should have the humanity to notify even an 
enemy that the lawful and recognized implements of war 
would be ignored, and poison used in their stead. The com- 
mon instincts of nature would have prompted me to such 
a course.” 

“You acknowledge your guilt, then?” inquired Robes- 
pierre. 

“I did not acknowledge any such thing; but if this is what 
I have been arrested for” — turning to Mr. Lincoln — “I only 
ask a fair trial. I can establish my loyalty as clearly as 
General Robespierre can. After that I have a few charges 
to prefer against him, of which your excellency is ignorant. 
I will prove to your satisfaction that he is the most unmiti- 
gated swindler in the United States, and that his wicked plot 
to poison the rebel officers was only a scheme to raise money 
for his own use.” 


308 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Well, that beats all h — 11!” cried Eobespierre, boiling with 
rage. “Why, d — n your infernal lying heart” 

“Hold, General Robespierre — hold!” cried Mr. Lincoln, 
interrupting. “Smith shall have a fair trial, and if he can 
prove his innocence, let him do it. But there is another wit- 
ness yet. Smith, whom you will see presently.” 

Scarcely were the words uttered before Walter Hallam en- 
tered the office. He respectfully saluted the officers, and 
then awaited their commands in silence. Winston saw his 
chances of escape growing slim when his eyes fell upon this 
last personage, but he betrayed not his emotion by any out- 
ward indication of fear, but looked upon the new feature of 
the case with as much external calmness as any body in the 
room. After a brief silence, Mr. Lincoln spoke : 

“Captain Hallam, do you know Mr. Smith,” pointing to the 
spy, “or Mr. Thompson, or whoever he may be?” 

“I do not know Mr. Smith or Thompson, but I have the 
honor to be acquainted with Mr. Henry Winston. I knew 
him before the war, and have met the gentleman several 
times since. I believe he was known in the United States 
navy by the name of Jones, and under that appellation sunk 
the celebrated gun-boat M .” 

“Mr. Thompson,” remarked General Robespierre, who had 
now cooled down, “can doubtless establish his loyalty. The 
beginning of his record is very bright and interesting in- 
deed.” 

“He was,” continued Hallam, “a soldier in the rebel army 
at the battle of Corinth, and was captured at that place by our 
forces. I next saw him on the 4th of July, dressed in the 
Federal uniform, and acting in all respects as a Union soldier 
A few weeks after that I saw him on the banks of the Missis- 
sippi, immediately after the gun-boat exploit. To-day I acci- 
dentally caught a glimpse of him, inquired his business here, 
and when I discovered he was in your employ, I thought it 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 309 

my duty to inform your excellency what a distinguished rebel 
you wore entertaining.” 

“I also,” added Kobespierre, “lay to his account the murder 
of John Bowman and twelve other soldiers.” 

“These are very grave charges, Smith,” said Mr. Lincoln; 
“very grave charges. If you are guilty, which I can not 
doubt at present, the penalty of your crime is death, and a 
very ignominious death, too — a dog’s death.” 

“I trust,” replied Winston, whose only object now was to 
gain time, "in order to effect his escape, “I trust your excel- 
lency will give me an opportunity to refute the charges. It is 
a very easy matter in these troublous times to swear away the 
life of a personal enemy. The assertions of these two men 
are unsustained by any evidence; and I can prove very clearly 
that some of the crimes imputed to me are infamous slanders. 
The remainder can all be satisfactorily explained.” 

“If I were your excellency,” said Robespierre, “I would 
not allow the impudent whelp five minutes to plead his case. 
I should have him hung as soon as the righteous deed could 
be performed.” 

“I would simply say to your excellency,” remarked Hallam, 
“that Mr. Winston is a very slippery character. As I have 
already informed you, he was not long since convicted and 
sentenced, but made his escape. A spy, like he evidently is, 
deserves no time in which to prepare a defense. He will, in 
all likelihood, escape again.” 

“ You did not talk thus boldly, Mr. Hallam ” — and the deep- 
blue eye shot forth one of those peculiar glances, the meaning 
of which Waiter well understood — “when I met you upon an 
equal footing. Should we so meet again, you will not dare to 
manifest so much impudence.” 

“Very well, sir,” replied Hallam, ^^wlien we so meet, which 
is not likely to be in this life.” 

“Smith,” said Mr. Lincoln, “I intend that you shall have a 


310 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


fair trial — you shall have justice. Not even the rebels shall 
find ground of complaint. I believe, to be plain with you, 
you ought to be executed forthwith. I am perfectly satisfied 
of your guilt; but still we will go through the form of a 
trial for the sake of decency.” 

“If your excellency is to be one of the jurors, I fear a trial 
will do me very little good, when you condemn me before you 
hear my defense.” 

“You shall have a fair trial. Smith. If you can establish 
your innocence, I shall be glad of it. But from the testimony 
now before me, it will be an utter impossibility. Here are 
already two good witnesses against you — men of undoubted 
veracity. I can not see how you are to rebut their testimony. 
But, nevertheless, you shall have justice, if you want it.” 

“Gentlemen,” said Seward, “who had been silent all this 
while, either because the golden eagles had made a soft place 
in his heart, or because he did not wish any thing to be said 
about the transaction, “the man is aj?r^n€?*, and it has always 
been considered very unkind, if no worse can be said of it, to 
trample upon and abuse a fallen enemy. The Constitution of 
the United States guarantees to every citizen the right of trial. 
Mr. Smith is a citizen, and is therefore entitled to all the priv- 
ileges of a citizen. No man ought to judge, or make up his 
mind, before he hears both sides of the case. The evidence 
thus far is very strong against Smith, I will admit; but he 
says, if I understood him correctly, that he can prove his inno- 
cence and loyalty. Let him have the opportunity to do so, 
and if he fail, then let him suffer the penalty. Common jus- 
tice demands this mode of procedure. I would suggest to 
your excellency that we are not the proper tribunal to try the 
case, and that, therefore, the prisoner be kept in custody until 
bis trial can take place.” 

“Secretary Seward is right,” said Mr. Lincoln. “Every cit* 
izen of the United States is entitled to a hearing, and he shall 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


311 


have it as long as I have the honor to preside over this jus- 
tice-loving nation. I am a great lover of justice, as well as 
honesty, and you shall have it, Smith — you shall have it, even 
if it costs you your life; for, if you can not disprove the 
charges, you shall surely die. Mark that.” 

Then, turning to the guard, he ordered that the prisoner 
should be kept in close and strict confinement until the day 
of his trial should arrive. 

“ I shall follow you to your grave this time,” said Hallam, 
in a low voice, as the prisoner was led away. 

Winston was not long kept in suspense as to the result of 
his trial. As we have already remarked, the Yankees had a 
way of committing political murder rapidly in the dark days 
of 1861. In three days after his confinement a court-mar- 
tial, by request, sat upon the case. Colonel Ellsworth was 
president of the court. This officer had been wounded in 
some of the numerous battles around Richmond to such a de- 
gree of severity as to disqualify him temporarily for active 
field service, and consequently had received from Mr. Lincoln 
the appointment to the office which he now filled. The spy’s 
case was one which did not admit of much discussion. The 
evidence was all on one side. General Robespierre and Wal- 
ter Hallam appeared as witnesses against the prisoner, and 
swore to all the facts within their knowledge, with which the 
reader is acquainted. It was in vain Winston pleaded that he 
had no opportunity to procure testimony. 

•‘Where are your witnesses?” asked one of the court. 

“Some are in Memphis and some are in New York. If I 
only had the opportunity, I could prove my loyalty.” 

“No doubt of that,” remarked Robespierre. “He has suf- 
ficiently proved his loyalty, but to the so-called Confederacy. 
Any man who would risk himself in the place he has, his loy- 
alty, I suppose, will not be questioned by any body.” 

“I should like to know,” said the prisoner, “if General 


312 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Robespierre is prosecuting attorney or the judge for the 
court. If he is not, I shall call upon the court for protection. 
He is well aware that I can not now defend myself If I 
could, I should chastise the base-born churl as he deserves. 
Under ordinary circumstances, I could not forget my own self- 
respect so far as even to bestow a thought upon a man like 
him, who has disgraced the insignia he wears, and who has 
brought a lasting reproach upon the cause he pretends to sus 
tain with so much zeal.” 

“Order, sir!” exclaimed the presiding officer, sternly, inter- 
rupting him. “ Such language will do' you no good before 
this court.. It will only make against you.” 

“I already know what your decision will be,” answered the 
spy. “ The court is a mere sham ; I was condemned before I 
was arrested, upon the testimony of these two men, who both 
richly deserve the fate you will doom me to suffer. I saw 
from the outset the intention was merely to go through the 
form of a trial. I have been kept closely confined for three* 
days, and not allowed to consult with any one who could be 
of the least assistance to me. Your minds were made up be- 
fore I appeared before this mock tribunal. It is useless for 
me to attempt a defense before such a court as this. I shall 
therefore make none; so do your worst. You can but con- 
demn me to death, and I am satisfied you will do that. You 
will be guilty of legal murder. But I tell you now the 
day will come when some of you” — and his eye rested on 
Hallam — “ will repent this proceeding. That day will com.^. 
‘The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the 
strong.’ ” 

“Does the prisoner,” asked another member, “expect to 
frighten the court by the use of such enigmatical language? 
This body is one which can- not be made to swerve from the 
path of duty by distant hints and threats of doubtful import. 
If this is all you have to say, your words are thrown away.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


313 


“My words,” replied the spy, “would be thrown away, no 
matter what I might have to say. Nothing that I could 
now say would change your minds; and I scorn to bandy 
words with a court so trammeled and foresworn as this. I 
have no further defense to make.” 

The testimony being all now given in, the spy was remanded 
to prison, and more closely guarded. The court soon deter- 
mined upon the case. The verdict was “ywi’%,” and the pris- 
oner was condemned to be hanged as a spy. The proceed- 
ings and sentence in the case were approved by Mr. Lincoln, 
and the following Friday named by him as the day when the 
execution would take place. Poor Winston was at once cast 
into a loathsome cell, set apart for convicted criminals, where 
he was to remain until he should die — a martyr to the cause 
of independence. 


314 


THu; (JUJNi’EDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

*^Tlie love that is kept in the beauty of trust 
Can not pass like the foam from the seas, 

Or a mark that the finger hath traced in the dust, 

When ’tis swept by the breath of the breeze.” 

The evening following the day of the spy’s trial, Colonel 
Ellsworth called upon Emily Burrell, in accordance with the 
proposition he had made, and to which Emily agreed. She 
was in her room, and promptly responded to the Colonel’s 
card. 

“I am happy to find you looking so much better than you 
did at the party,” said the Colonel, after the customary salu- 
tation, and some uninteresting conversation in regard to city 
matters. “I hope your health is improving.’^ 

“I fear not,” replied Emily. 

“I am sorry. Miss Burrell, that you look upon yours as 
such a hopeless case. I fear your malady grows worse by 
your unwise determination to exclude yourself from society, 
and your resolution to cherish your feelings of melancholy. 
The mind exercises a vast infiuence over the powers of the 
body; in fact, the recovery from the ills that ‘fiesh is heir to’ 
very frequently depends upon our resolution not to yield to 
the griping hand of disease. It is known that when a patient 
once makes up his mind to die, and resolves that he will not 
live, there is no power in the healing art to save him. I have 
no doubt we often sow the seeds of disease and death in the 
constitution by continually reflecting upon and grieving over 
the disappointments inseparable from human life. It is the 
part of philosophy and wisdom to forget ills to which no 
remedy can be applied.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


315 


“It is very easy to talk, Colonel Ellsworth, and to preach 
up philosophy and fine theories, when one is in perfect health, 
and has never felt the throes of mental pain. If all the 
various and diverse theories in the world which have been 
advanced could only be put in practice, this earth would in- 
deed be a paradise. I am very fond of the ‘art sublime,’ 
Colonel, and, if not disagreeable, I will reply to you in poetic 
language : 

‘It may be that I shall forget my grief j 
It may be time has good in store for me; 

It may be that my heart will find relief 
From sources now unknown. Futurity 
May bear within its foMs some hidden spring, 

From which will issue blessed streams; and yet, 
Whate’er of joy the coming year may bring. 

The past — the past — / never can forget.’ ” 

“I do not often quote poetry. Miss Burrell, but I will con- 
demn you by the art of which you are so fond : 

‘It is not well to brood 
Thus darkly o’er the cares that swell 
Life’s current to a fiood. 

As brooks, and torrents, rivers, all 
Increase the gulf in which they fall. 

Such thoughts, by gathering up the rills 
Of lesser griefs, spread real ills. 

And with their gloomy shades conceal 
The landmarks Hope would else reveal.’” 

“Have you,” asked the Colonel, after a short silence, “have 
you bestowed a thought on the subject upon which we con- 
versed at the party?” 

“Your question is a very indefinite one,” Emily replied. 
“ If I recollect aright, we talked upon several different sub- 
jects.” 

“I mean that which lies nearest my heart— my own deep 
and lasting love for you.” 

“ Colonel Ellsworth,” she replied, while a shade of vexation 
flitted across her brow, “I requested you never to mention 


316 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


this to me again. I thought I was sufficiently explicit upon 
this point, and I told you distinctly that I could never be in- 
terested in such a topic. You will forfeit my respect and 
esteem if you continue thus to annoy me with such vain and 
useless importunities.” 

“You are cruel, Miss Burrell, cruel. I have endured an 
age of torture since I last saw you. The fervor with which I 
worship you is more than the human heart can bear, if it is to 
- continue long. I have felt so sensibly the utter impossibility 
of living without you, that I have removed all the obstacles I 
could, which you mentioned as objections to my suit. I will 
abandon all — country, friends, parents — all, to secure your 
love. If my position in the Federal army is an objection, I 
will resign it. If the North suit you not, we will leave it; we 
will go to the South. I will change my principles; and, if 
you insist on it, I will even recant so far as to take up arms 
against the land of my nativity. 0,” added the officer, with 
much feeling, “reject not the terrible sacrifice with scorn and 
contempt. At least be merciful.” 

Emily was sensibly affected by the Colonel’s earnestness 
and his evident suffering. She could now feel the full force 
of that beautiful line of Virgil, uttered by Dido, when ship- 
wrecked. .(Eneas sought shelter in the Tyrian land — ’‘Non 
ignara rnali miseris succurrese disco' She therefore replied, 
in a softened, melancholy tone of voice: 

“I am not one. Colonel Ellsworth, to treat with levity the 
offering of a bruised and bleeding heart. I appreciate very 
highly the compliment implied in the great sacrifice you 
would make. But were you to make such a sacrifice of 
principle and honor, even I would lose my respect for your 
manhood, and could not but regard you as destitute of moral 
sentiment. Every man’s honor should be sacred, and he 
should die rather than be false to himself, his country, and 
his Grod. Beside Colonel, I fear the sacrifice would not be 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


317 


made from true principle, or a conviction of error. Desertion 
of one’s native country is bad enough, but when done through 
mercenary motives, or to gain some selfish end, it becomes 
disgraceful and dishonorable. You would not be respected 
in the South, for southerners are like Philip, and while they 
‘love the treason, they hate the traitor.’ Your whole life 
afterward would be wretched and miserable. Were I to 
pursue the course suggested by you, and comply with your 
wishes, you would, in a very short time, be left alone; and 
you would regret, through your remaining days, that you 
sacrificed your principles, abandoned your country, for a pale, 
sickly girl, whose wretched existence could not be prolonged 
to compensate your- loss of honor. Where, then, could you 
find any to pity you? You would be a traitor in the North 
and a deserter in the South. No, no. Colonel, I could never 
permit you to bring eternal disgrace upon yourself, and blight 
all your blooming hopes for a withered flower. Leave me 
alone in my wretchedness and solitude. Life possesses not a 
single charm for me. I am not worthy of the great sacrifice 
you propose to make. You have talents; you have ambition; 
and you can make a name for yourself which may win the 
affection of the proudest lady in the land. Gro, then, seek 
out some one who can stimulate you in the path of honor and 
fame; who can add to your glory and your luster by her 
charms and her beauty; and who will and who can rejoice in 
the proud laurels blooming on your brow.” 

“ Talk not in this style to me. Miss Burrell. Your words 
enter my heart like sharp-pointed daggers. 

‘What is honor? a silly, vain opinion^ 

That hangs but on the rabble’s idle breath: 

For them we court it, yet by them ’tis scorn’d.’ 

I value happiness more than honor. What to me is the 
vain, silly praise of the world, when my heart is barren and 
desolate? I care not for the vain applause of a thoughtless 


318 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


multitude, whose admiration is often bestowed without reflec- 
tion, and whose censure is given without justice. You mis- 
take my character if you suppose me to be one of those who 
delight in the jars and discords of political life, or who seek 
after the fleeting bubbles of the heau-monde. I want a heart 
to love and adore. I want a companion, a congenial spirit, 
whose emotions respond to those of my own soul and heart. 
I want a guardian angel^ to purify the depravities of human 
nature; to restrain the evil propensities of my disposition ; to 
elevate my thoughts above the hollow schemes and pursuits 
of this sinful globe, and thus foretaste the joys of eternity. 
To possess such a heart, I would defy the scorn and hate of 
twenty generations of men, and smile at the condemnation of 
a world. I would not so much as bestow a thought upon the 
united frowns and reproaches of North and South. To own 
a heart like yours, for the space of a month even, I would re- 
nounce all claims upon human society. Life, Miss Burrell, is 
but a span — a very brief span ; and it matters not to me in 
what clime I may dwell, or among what races of men my lot 
may be cast, if only the intense longings of this heart can be 
quelled, and that aching void which demands the communi- 
cation of soul with soul can be filled. What, though, as you 
will have it, you should be taken from me? Will our connec- 
tion cease here? I trust I have a higher, holier, nobler aim in 
view. Think you not I could watch over you with love and 
tenderness in your sleep? Our connection as human beings 
might, as you anticipate, cease, but that of the immortal soul, 
never. If the result should be as you predict, I would daily 
visit the spot whereon you should repose, and look far be- 
yond the skies, by the aid of religious faith, to the realms of 
eternal light, and hold communication with the soul of one 
who had been an angel on earth. I would thus pass on 
through the brief period allotted to human life, indifferent to 
the taunts of men till we would be reunited in that bright 


THE CONFEDERATE aPY. 


319 


world in which sorrow and grief can never enter. The pros- 
pect is. therefore, not so gloomy as you picture it, but is muck 
more inviting than the other you have pointed out. Do not, 
then, send me away a disappointed wretch, to mourn through 
my whole life, and to regret that I ever lived.” 

“ If you should mourn thus. Colonel Ellsworth, you will be 
rather inconsistent, and will fail to practice the precepts you 
preach to others. I shall remind you of your poetic quota- 
tion, and tell you to apply it to your own case. I shall ad- 
vise you,” she continued, with a mournful smile, “ to call to 
your aid some of that consoling philosophy that you recom- 
mended to me.” 

“ Do not attempt thus to turn my love into ridicule, and 
treat my protestations of fidelity with contempt,” said Colonel 
Ellsworth. 

"‘Say that you love me not, but say not so 
In bitterness: the common executioner. 

Whose heart the accustomed sight of death makes hard. 
Falls not the ax upon the humbled neck 
But first begs pardon.’ 

I can endure any thing better than the contempt and 
mockery of her whose life I would lay down my own to 
save.” 

“You misunderstand me. Colonel Ellsworth, if you sup- 
pose it my intention to make light of your emotions. I have 
suffered too much myself to give pain to others, and especially 
to those who may be passing through the ordeal of fire which 
has prostrated my hopes and blighted my affections. But it 
is useless to dwell upon this unpleasant topic. I tell you I 
can never love again, and you certainly would not desire me 
to perjure myself before the altar. You ought not to wish to 
link your destiny with one who could never fill the position 
of ‘guardian angel’ you have described.” 

“ The idea of loving but once is rather romantic and fanciful 
and I would willingly risk that.” 


. 320 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“Then, Colonel, practice your doctrine. If it be but a 
romantic idea, go find some one else, who can listen with eager- 
ness to your burning words, and respond to your feelings. 
You can love again; as for me, I shall never hve hut once; 
and to convince you, look at this.” She drew forth a small 
miniature, and handed it to the officer. He looked upon it 
earnestly, with an expression of wonder, and then suddenly 
started, in seeming surprise. He was on the point of speak- 
ing, but Emily continued her remarks, and he remained silent: 
“ I told you at the party, in answer to your inquiry, that I 
had loved, and I described my heau-ideal at your request. 
That miniature is an exact representation of the features of 
him to whom I gave my heart years ago. You asked me 
where he was? I know not; but I love none the less. He 
may live for aught I know; but if he be dead, then are my 
affections buried in his grave. And now. Colonel, after this 
brief but to me sad history, ask me no more to change my 
purpose, but leave me wedded to my sorrow.” 

“This picture,” remarked the officer thoughtfully, “bears a 
striking resemblance to the features of a prisoner who was 
tried to-day by a court-martial. When I first saw him, I 
thought of the description you gave at the party. This, how- 
ever, can not be the person in whom you are interested, for he 
is a celebrated spy, and was convicted, and is to be hanged 
next Friday.” 

Emily slightly started. 

I never saw a bolder looking man in my life, and one of 
such prepossessing appearance. He defied the court to the 
last, and, I understand, heard his sentence with the stoicism 
of a heathen philosopher. I feel extremely sorry for the 
young man, who must yield up his life in the prime of man- 
hood, and die a dishonorable death. But he was guilty of 
the charges preferred, and attempted no defense. It was use- 
less, because the testimony was furnished by two very credit- 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


321 


able witnesses — General Robespierre and Captain Hallam. 
But I fear you are ill. Miss Burrell,” said the officer, breaking 
off in surprise, as he noticed the deathly pallor of Emily’s 
countenance. She was looking at the Colonel with a fixed, 
agonizing look of in<^uiry, which was painful to behold. It 
was in vain she essayed to speak. Her words died on her 
tongue. “You are ill, Miss Burrell,” exclaimed the officer, 
in painful embarrassment; “let me ring for assistance.” 

“No, no,” she cried, partially shaking off the death-like 
stupor; “it .will leave me in a moment. . Continue your story; 
tell me the name of this unfortunate southron,” she added, 
with as much indifference as she could assume. 

“ He seems to have been known by several names,” said the 
Colonel, after a brief pause, in which he appeared to be 
troubled with an embarrassing thought. “ He has passed 
himself off as Smith, Thompson, Jones, and probably Brown. 
But his true name, as Captain Hallam testified, is Henry 
Winston.” 

Emily did not faint, or go into hysterics, as some would 
have expected. But her bloodless face turned a shade paler, 
and her limbs slightly quivered with an imperceptible shud- 
der. She felt for an instant a sense of blindness; her head 
became dizzy; a sickening sensation crept over her; and she 
sat as fixed and immovable as a statue of brass. Colonel 
Ellsworth gazed at her with an expression of profound sym- 
pathy. 

“Miss Burrell, you are ill.” 

“I do feel unwell,” replied Emily, in a feeble, choking 
voice. “If you will excuse me I will retire.” 

With a painful effort she slowly rose from her seat, bade 
the officer good evening, and sought the solitude of her own 
chamber. After her departure. Colonel Ellsworth sat a few 
moments in deep abstraction; then, suddenly rising, he mut- 
tered to himself, “I thought so. I thought so;” hastily walked 

21 


822 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


out into the streets, and wended his way homeward. “I 
will,” thought the officer, as he was moving along the street; 
“I will lay down this life before I betray her. She can not, 
though, be an accomplice. Her ignorance of his whereabouts 
and her palpable suffering preclude the idea. It is her lover ; 
\imust be. 0 heaven!” he cried, in agony, “I would ex- 
change places with him this night.” He was not the only 
miserable being in Washington that night. 

Poor Emily, as soon as she left her visitor, went reeling 
into her room. “God of truth!” she cried, “desert me not 
in this hour of trial!” She sank down into a chair by an 
open window. A gentle breeze came stealing into the cham- 
ber, and played with the raven locks of the drooping head. 
The noiseless moonbeams danced, in the sheen of heavenly 
splendor, around the bowed form; but the stricken child of 
sorrow looked as one dead to the beauties of nature and art. 
The broad blue sky stretched out its wide canopy, glittering 
with myriads of twinkling stars that peeped forth from their 
cerulean height in unearthly brightness, but the grief-worn 
spirit felt not the cheering influence of the magniflcent scene. 
The sweet, soft tones of a musical band, not far distant, came 
trembling upon a sighing zephyr, but the ear heard it not. 
But, one by one, these beauties of the night began to fade 
away. The city was buried in profound silence, and its in- 
habitants had yielded to the healthful sway of Morpheus. 
The moon rolled on, up to its zenith; then went, marching in 
.solemn grandeur, its downward track behind the western hills. 
The stars disappeared, one after another, as if wearied by 
their long nightly vigil. But the bowed form in the open 
window moved not. 

*‘At last the golden oriental gate 
Of greatest heaven ’gan to open fair; 

And Phoebus, fresh as bridegroom to his mate, 

Came dancing forth, shaking his dewy hair, 

And hurl’d his glist’ning beams through gloomy air." 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


323 


Morning dawned. “Night’s swift dragons cut the clouds 
full fast, and ghosts went trooping home, here and there, to 
church-yards.” The sun rose above the eastern horizon, and 
some of his straggling rays stole in at the window and seized 
the disheveled locks of Emily’s head. The city was rife 
with confusion and the hum of business, but the mourner 
rose not. 

When breakfast was dispatched, and Emily still had not 
appeared, Colonel Burrell left the table, and knocked at his 
sister’s chamber door; but there was no answer. Opening the 
door, he entered, and gazed in surprise at the unusual spec- 
tacle. Just before day, Emily, completely exhausted, had 
fallen into an uneasy slumber. She looked the very picture 
of death, and might have been mistaken for a corpse had not 
the labored breathing of the sleeper told that she lived. Her 
lips were slightly apart, and she murmured distinctly, “God, 
save him!” Colonel Burrell stood looking on, and, listening 
a few moments, touched her face. Emily started up, and 
gazed around with a wild stare. 

“Emily,” said the brother, looking at the smooth, unruffled 
bed, “what means this? You have sat up the whole night.” 

“I am so glad you have come, brother. I had such an 
ugly, frightful dream. But sit down; I want to talk with 
you. I want your advice; and I want you to do me a favor.” 

“Not until you have eaten something; then I will listen to 
you.” 

The Colonel rang for a servant, and ordered Emily’s break- 
fast to be brought up to her room. She rose, laved her face, 
and brushed back her tangled hair; she then sat down, and 
dispatched a very small portion of the breakfast, which had 
been brought up, in a few moments. Colonel Burrell looked 
on in sorrowful silence. She rose, and the waiter was carried 
away. 

“You have eaten scarcely any thing,” remarked the Colonel, 


324 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


as she seated herself by his side; “but never mind; tell me 
what is the matter. Why did you not sleep last night?” 

She fixed her large lustrous eyes upon his face. 

“You heard of the trial yesterday, brother?” 

“ No, I did not. What trial ?” 

“ The trial of Henry Winston.” 

“Where — in this city?” 

“Yes; he has been hunted down, tried, and condemned 
to die.” 

“And the favor you have to ask relates to him?” 

“It does.” 

“I feared so. Emily, I wish to God you had never seen 
this man,” said the Colonel, with an angry frown. 

“O, brother,” she said, while her eyes moistened with tears, 
“ look not thus darkly upon me. I wish it as much as you 
do. I wish I had never been born. 0, my God! I wish I 
was dead!” And she buried' her face in her brother’s breast. 

This was more than the Colonel could endure. The dark 
frown quickly passed away, and was succeeded by an expres- 
sion of tender sympathy. Colonel Burrell was not the first 
man that had ever felt the power of. a tear “in woman’s 
eye, the unanswerable iear,” that appeals to the heart more 
strongly than words — the tear 

“Which melts me to the softness of a woman, 

And shakes my best resolves.” 

“ Emily, my poor little sister, I did not mean to be angry 
with you. I only made the wish because I thought it would 
have been best for you. This man has been the bane of your 
life, and you have sacrificed your happiness for an eccentric 
lover. On his account you have rejected the most brilliant 
match in the city. Colonel Ellsworth is a man of acknowl- 
edged worth, of superior education, and of boundless wealth, 
and loves you to madness. Why, then, have you cast such a 
man aside for a rebel spy who is awaiting sentence of death?” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


325 


“Because,” she replied, rising up, “I do not love him.” 

“But you might learn to love him. I wish you would give 
up this silly notion of your girlhood, and act like a grown 
woman. Colonel Ellsworth is all that you could desire, and 
will make you a good husband. There is not another lady in 
Washington City who would refuse such an offer.” 

“Why should I marry, brother, if I do not wish to?” 

“ Because it will be best for you. I can not always be with 
you; and I want you to have a protector.” 

“I feel that I will not be with you long, brother James. I 
shall not trouble you a great while longer.” 

“I did nob mean that,” quickly interrupted the Colonel — 
“I did not mean that. All the trouble you are to me is a 
pleasure. But the day may come when we will have to sepa- 
rate; then I want you to be in somebody’s hands in whom 
you can with safety confide. As a matter of course, you can 
now never see this man Winston, much less marry him.” 

“But, brother, you can see him, and I may see him.” 

Colonel Burrell looked earnestly into her face, as if he did 
not understand her words. 

“What mean you by that, Emily?” 

“ I mean that I want you to visit the man whom you call a 
rebel spy this very day. If he still loves me, I shall prove 
true even unto death. If not, then I will marry whom you 
will.” 

“I anticipated this,” said Colonel Burrell; “but let me ask 
if you have considered the impropriety of such a thing?” 

“I see no impropriety in your visiting a prisoner.” 

“No, not if the affair should end with that; but then you 
propose that you will visit him afterward.” 

“I did not say so. I want you to find out the relation 
which subsisted between him and Carrie Hallam. After that, 
I will tell you what I shall do.” 


326 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“I scarcely know myself; but I want to know this for my 
own satisfaction. I can not die content without it. An effort 
ought to be made to save him, if possible. You can find out 
whether there is any chance to procure his pardon.” 

“Do not begin to talk that way,” said the Colonel, shaking 
his head. “ You will get us both into a difficulty.” 

“Brother, we, or at least I do, owe Mr. Winston a debt 
of gratitude. The time has now come when I can be some- 
thing more than grateful. I do not wish this opportunity 
to pass away without an effort on my part to liquidate the 
obligation.” 

“I am willing to pay the amount I promised, and consider 
the debt discharged. I do not consider myself, nor you 
either, under any obligations to be forever attempting to get 
the fellow out of his scrapes. I will pay him, and be even.” 

“Gold to one in his situation can be of but little use now. 
He needs something more substantial than that.” 

“What, in the name of God, do you expect me to do? It 
is not to be supposed that I can release the man. Even if I 
could, I do not know that I would be doing right to do so. 
He is evidently a dangerous character to our cause. What 
would be thought of me in Washington City and elsewhere 
were I to ask the pardon of one who has made himself a 
notorious spy? My loyalty to the government would be at 
once suspected; because I have no reason whatever upon 
which to base a petition for his release. It might become 
an ugly piece of business, and a more serious affair than you 
imagine. I will not undertake it.” 

“You can at least find out for what he has been condemned. 
I shall not ask you to do any thing inconsistent with your 
position. As far as I am concerned, individually, I care not 
for the opinion of Washington City, even of all Yankeedom, 
Could I do any thing for the Confederate States by assisting 
even the humblest soldier in the southern army, I would do it. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


327 


if the act should forever degrade me in the estimation of the 
whole Yankee nation. God knows I hate them all — the vile, 
thieving set that is now plundering the state in which we were 
born. 0 God, forgive me! but if I had the power I would 
set fire to the North, even if the bones of every man, woman, 
and child should add fuel to the flames. Methinks I could 
laugh at their wild shrieks, as they would come howling and 
screaming through the fire. I could be like old Nero, who 
fiddled over the ruins of burning Rome.” 

“My God! Emily, you are mad — you are deranged!” cried 
Colonel Burrell, looking at her in terror and alarm. 

“No more mad than you are, brother. I tell you,” she 
continued, calmly, “if I had the power, 1 would blow up the 
whole North, and scatter its disgraced soil throughout the 
universe. I would, if I could, Samson-like, tear down its 
foundations, if I should be buried beneath its ruins.” 

“This is sheer nonsense, sister. You do not know what 
you are talking about.” 

“ Let us change the subject, then, brother. Will you grant 
my request? I have sacrificed something for you, James. I 
never did want to leave the South, but I came here merely 
because you desired it. I think, therefore, you might do me 
this little favor. You will not have to repeat. The poor 
prisoner will soon be murdered. They will put him to death, 
and I will soon follow him down to the tomb.” 

She burst into another flood of tears, which overthrew the 
Colonel’s resolution. Woman triumphed, and Colonel Burrell 
had to yield. 

“Hush, sister, hush. I will do almost any thing if you 
will stop crying. I can not stand your tears. I will go and 
see Winston; but you must excuse me after that. What must 
I say to him? What is it you want?” 

“May God bless you, brother, for this kindness,” she said, 
wiping away her tears. “I want you to find out why he left 


328 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Kentucky so abruptly; whether he ever loved Miss Hallam; 
and if he is — is true to me. That is all.” 

Colonel Burrell then left the apartment, went to the proper 
officer, and procured a pass, then visited the prisoner. Upon 
his return, several hours afterward, during which time Emily 
was in a dreadful state of suspense, he related to her substan- 
tially what will be found in the next chapter. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


329 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

is a noble constancy you show 
To this afflicted house: that not like others, 

The friends of season, you do follow fortune. 

And in the winter of their fate forsake 
The place whose glories warmed them.” 

When Colonel Burrell, in obedience to the request of his 
sister, visited the prison, he found Henry Winston in a dark 
stone cell. It was several seconds before the Colonel’s eyes 
were sufficiently accustomed to the darkness to distinguish 
objects. As soon, however, as it was practicable to use the 
organs of sight, he saw in one corner a pile of straw, which 
served the prisoner as a bed. Near by was a stone pitcher, 
filled with water, and a tin cup. A rugged stool occupied a 
conspicuous position near the center of this gloomy abode, set 
apart exclusively for those who were under sentence of death. 
These were all the articles of furniture of which those doomed 
to occupy the cell were deemecf worthy. The appearance of 
the apartment was calculated to remind one of the dismal 
regions of Pluto. The reader need not be told that this 
wretched cell had been very frequently applied to the purpose 
for which it was intended since the commencement of the 
bloody war of 1861. In fact, hardly would one unfortunate 
victim to the fury and fanaticism engendered by the hell-born 
spirit of terror’s reign vacate this receptacle of felony, before 
its creaking door would close in upon another, sentenced to 
expiate his real or supposed crime upon the gibbet. Some- 
times half a dozen would occupy it at- once. Many names, 
traced by hands which were now cold in death, could be 
plainly seen upon the cold gray walls. A little apart from 


330 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


the long black list the name of Henry S. Winston appeared, 
in a bold hand, and immediately under it those beautiful lines 
of Goldsmith: 

“The wretch, oondemned with life to part, 

Still, still on hope relies; 

And every pang that rends the heart 
Bids expectation rise. 

Hope, like the glimmering taper’s light, 

Adorns and cheers the way; 

And still, as darker grows the night. 

Emits a brighter ray.” 

But to what hope the spy had reference, in his present con- 
dition, is difficult to imagine, unless it was to that bright beam 
of comfort which lights up the Christian soul in the “valley 
and shadow of death.” 

When Colonel Burrell entered the cell, Winston seemed not 
to have heard the heavy door that harshly grated on its strong 
iron hinges, as it opened and shut. He was sitting upon the 
stool, with his back to the entrance, and held open before him 
a large, red-bound book, amid the pages of which he appeared 
to be totally deaf to all external sounds. It might be sup- 
posed that a prisoner, condemned to die in the course of a 
very few days and nights, would certainly devote his last mo- 
ments to the study of Holy Writ. But such was not the case. 
The book contained only the lives of celebrated robbers, who 
had been distinguished for shrewdness in the annals of crime. 
It is not known whether Winston made special arrangements 
to procure such a work, or whether it had been accidentally 
left, or because no other disposition could be made of it by his 
predecessors, who, too hardened by vice to think of the eter- 
nal world, had pleased fancy in their last hours by living in 
imagination with notorious highwaymen. We know not what 
consolation could be derived from such a collection of facts, 
especially by a man of Winston’s intellectual capacity, refined 
sensibility, and religious principles. It may be that he found 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


831 


the hook in his bed of straw, opened it, and became deeply 
interested before he was aware of it. At all events. Colonel 
Burrell stood still for several moments, and surveyed the 
apartment and its occupant without speaking. At last, see- 
ing that the spy was unaware of his presence, he advanced 
and broke the gloomy silence. 

“ You are so highly entertained with your book, Mr. 
Winston, that you do not notice the entrance of an old 
acquaintance.” 

The spy started in surprise at the voice, which seemed to 
come from the pages of the book; then rose from his seat, 
cast a glance at "the face of the speaker, and instantly recog- 
nized the man whose presence was calculated to revive so 
many melancholy recollections and sorrowful associations. 

“I have good reason to know you,” answered the spy, 
throwing the book aside and extending his hand with a 
mournful smile; “but, strange to say, I have never yet learned 
your name.” 

“Indeed!” said the officer; and then added, after a brief 
pause; “My name is James Burrell.” 

“You are, then, related to Miss Emily Burrell, I presume?” 
said the prisoner, in a tone of anxious inquiry. 

“She is my sister.” 

“Your sister!” exclaimed the prisoner, with an expression 
of countenance that baffled description. “Great God! how 
terribly I have been deceived!” 

The two men looked at each other in mutual embarrass- 
ment. 

“Excuse my want of politeness,” at last said Winston, 
noticing that the officer used a crutch ; and placing near to 
him the solitary stool. “This is the only convenience with 
which I have been furnished, in the way of chairs.” 

The Colonel sat down, and the spy placed himself on his 
bed, and then continued: 


332 THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 

“You need not wonder at my surprise, when I inform 
you that I had the stupidity to take you for your sister’s 
husband.” 

“I am aware,” replied the officer; “that you have been 
laboring under some* kind of a delusion, and I supposed it 
was of this character when you left us so suddenly on the 
banks of the Mississippi.” 

“No doubt you have thought my conduct very strange in 
some respects, but I trust this delusion, as you well name it, 
will be a sufficient explanation; for it has been a delusion 
fatal to me.” 

“It is no secret to me, Mr. Winston, that you were once 
engaged to my sister; and I do not see, under the circum- 
stances, that I should conceal the fact that she has suffered — 
yea, still suffers— from what she conceived to be a disappoint- 
ment in the days of her girlhood. I never have believed that 
you wantonly trifled with her affections; but, nevertheless, 
Emily was considerably troubled by a letter addressed to you 
and a miniature found upon your person by Captain Hallam, 
when you were supposed to be dead.” 

“I do not recollect,” replied the spy, “of having had any 
letter about me at the time to which you allude. If I had 
a miniature, it was that of Miss Hallam.” 

“Just so,” replied Colonel Burrell. “There was also a let- 
ter, as I said, addressed to you by that young lady, and which 
seems to have embittered Walter Hallam against you ever 
since that time. And I must say, that at the time, and under 
the circumstances, and owing to the strange language of the 
letter, it placed your character in a very unenviable light.” 

“Is it possible,” asked the spy, “that Miss Hallam’s own 
family never heard of the unfortunate circumstances relating 
to her, which was published by several newspapers when it 
occurred?” 

“Walter, at least, seems never to have heard it. I am, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


333 


however, too fast. He may have heard it, for aught I know 
to the contrary. I never knew much about my cousin Car- 
rie’s history, and should be glad to hear the circumstance to 
which you allude, especially since it seems to be connected 
with the alFair you are explaining.” 

“Miss Hallam’s history,” replied the spy, “is rather a sad 
one, and sounds more like romance than reality; but, if you 
wish to hear it, I will relate it in a few words.” 

The spy, after seating himself more comfortably on the 
pile of straw, related the story as follows: 

“I graduated in the University of Mississippi. When I 
first entered that institution, I boarded at a private house, 
with a gentleman who had a son in my class. The gentle- 
man’s son and myself roomed together, studied together, and 
in a short time we were as intimate as David and Jonathan. 
In fact, we called each other David and Jonathan, as our 
names happened to be the same. For three years we thus 
lived, until we were in the senior class; but at the end of the 
senior scholastic year the unfortunate occurrence transpired 
that deprived me of that friend forever. 

“Not more than a mile from the University was a female 
college. Miss Hallam, from Kentucky, was a student in that 
seminary. She was a young lady of great personal beauty, 
but, begging your pardon, rather destitute of that which 
would recommend her to a man of solid intellect, such an my 
friend was. In fact, I never could see the attraction which 
so completely drew forth the affections of his noble heart. 
I never met with two characters in my life, more opposite. 
He was sober, serious, and thoughtful; she was gay, volatile, 
and seemed to think no more than if she had been a child. 
He was a hard student, was plain in his dress, and heart' ly 
despised the common frivolities of fashion; she, on the con- 
trary, rarely made an effort of mind, or, if she did, it was in 
regard to her apparel, or some other frippery of fashionai>l<» 


334 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


life. I never could account for his fascination, save upon the 
phrenological principle that we are disposed to choose our 
opposites. I once presumed so far upon our great friendship 
and intimacy as to ask him what he discovered so peculiarly 
attractive in Miss Hallam; but he laughingly replied in three 
lines of Spencer; 

“‘Lover’s eyes more sharply-sighted be 

Than other men’s j and in dear love’s delight 
See more than any other eyes can see.”’ 

“Miss Hallam was in the habit of visiting my friend 
David’s (as I shall still call him) sister. David at first 
was rather shy, but his timidity, under the gay attacks of 
the young lady, gradually wore away, and his feelings soon 
ripened into a warm friendship; next changed into love; and 
finally settled down into a passion of romantic madness. The 
consequence of this unfortunate attachment was an engage- 
ment of marriage between the two, to be consummated in a 
few months after their graduation. 

“Time rolled on, and commencement-day arrived. The ex- 
ercises on this occasion were unusually interesting, and were 
witnessed by the largest audience that ever gathered in the 
little village of Oxford. My friend was one of the orators of 
the day; and he had selected a subject which he handled with 
masterly skill. It was known that he was a good speaker, 
and when he arose expectation was on the tip-toe. For 
twenty minutes he delivered his composition with a power 
and a pathos that held the vast assembly perfectly spell- 
bound. He surpassed even himself, and it seemed that the 
goddess of eloquence had seated herself upon his lips, and 
directed his burning words into the inmost recesses of every 
heart and soul under the influence of his powerful but 
musical voice. But all at once he came to a dead halt, in 
the middle of a beautiful and thrilling peroration. I thought 
the composition had escaped his memory. His prompter 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


335 


very readily repeated the first two or three words of the next 
sentence. His gaze was intently fixed upon some one in the 
back part of the chapel. I involuntarily cast my eyes in the 
direction in which he was looking, and there beheld Miss 
Hallam engaged in what appeared to be a very interesting 
conversation with a student of dissipated habits and notori- 
ously immoral principles. How long she had been thus en- 
gaged, or how long my friend had seen her tete-a-tete^ I know 
not; but when he took up the words from his prompter, and 
proceeded with his speech, it was in such a changed voice 
and awkward manner, the contrast with his previous tone and 
graceful gesticulation was so great, that the whole house was 
filled with surprise and disappointment. He proceeded thus, 
in this strange, unnatural, and uncouth manner, to the end of 
,his oration, and when he took his seat, not a single plaudit 
was heard. I was glad, for his sake, that the piece was 
fini.shed. He sat down apparently deeply mortified and dis- 
appointed. 

“When he first saw Miss Hallam thus interestingly engaged 
with a young man for whom he had no respect, the thought 
must have suddenly fiashed over his mind that, while every 
other person in the house was completely absorbed in his 
speech, she alone was utterly indiflPerent to his mighty effort. 
The thought staggered him, and so worked upon his feelings 
that he entirely lost control of himself, and proceeded with 
the remainder of his speech like a bird taught to pronounce 
phrases and sentences, one word of which he does not under- 
stand. The young lady appeared not to be aware of the 
impropriety of her conduct, and her want of respect for her 
Jntended husband; for when the exhibition was ended, and 
the audience was dispersing, I noticed her manifestation of 
surprise and vexation at my friend, who, under the infiuence 
of a fit of jealousy and disappointment, passed out of the 
chapel without taking the least notice of Miss Hallam. That 


336 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


evening his dejection and melancholy were so great that* 1 
ventured to say, ‘She is unworthy of you; banish all thought 
of such a fickle creature from your mind, and give your love 
to some other who can appreciate your talent and return 
your affection.’ 

“ He seemed vexed that I should be aware of his mortifi- 
cation, and he replied, with an angry flush of the countenance : 
‘He who says she loves me not lies in his foul throat, and I 
cast it in his teeth. By Jove! she does love me; and there 
are some people who would do well to attend to their own 
affairs, and let me manage mine. I have asked nobody’s ad- 
vice, and T think it is the height of impoliteness and impu- 
dence to thrust one’s opinion even upon a friend, when it 
is unasked and undesired.’ I choked down *my feelings of 
anger aroused by this cutting reply, as I saw plainly my friend 
was not himself. I did not venture to return an answer, but 
instantly left him alone, intending to talk with him when his 
angry mood should wear off. 

“That night I attended the ball given in honor of the 
graduating class. A ball of this kind is given annually, at 
each commencement, in compliment to those who were about to 
quit the scenes of the college curriculum, and enter upon the 
trying realities of life. My friend, with a dark, murky coun- 
tenance, entered the hall, in which there was assembled a large 
crowd for the purpose of dancing. Miss Hallam was there 
also, but my friend did not seem to notice her in the least. 
She appeared to be evidently piqued at this intentional neglect, 
and, I supposed, resolved to repay the slight with compound 
interest. No sooner did St. Clare, the young man. in whose 
company she had been so highly entertained while my friend 
was speaking, enter the hall, than he made up to where Miss 
Hallam was sitting, and was received with a smiling face. I 
observed that she cast a sly glance at David, to discover if he 
had noticed this turn of events. He was looking at her with 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


337 


an expression upon his gloomy face that I never can forget. 
She was satisfied with having attracted his attention, and 
entered into a flirtation with St. Clare, that occasioned David 
perceptible annoyance. I saw that in this lover’s quarrel, this 
contest of mutual jealousy, Miss Hallam would be triumphant. 
She danced with St. Clare, chatted with him, laughed with 
him, as if she were perfectly delighted with her companion. 
David got off into one corner of the hall, and maintained a 
moody, sullen silence. At last the dancers paused, and Miss 
Hallam took her seat. David could stand it no longer. I 
suppose he resolved to make the first advances toward a recon- 
ciliation. He walked slowly up to where Miss Hallam was 
sitting, and politely asked her to dance the next set with him. 

“‘I am engaged,’ she flippantly replied, and turned coldly 
from him, without another word, and commenced talking to 
St. Clare. 

“David stood like one confounded for a moment. Her 
coldness and indifference seemed to penetrate his inmost soul. 
He suddenly turned upon his heel, with a haughty curl of the 
upper lip, and went from the hall, while the demon of jealousy 
was poisoning his heart. When Miss Hallam saw that he 
was gone, her manner instantly changed, and she appeared 
to repent of the cool manner in which she had treated him. 
But her face brightened up in the course of half an hour, 
when David re-entered, and she commenced anew with her 
volleys of ‘small talk.’ David remained standing a few mo- 
ments, with his gaze sternly fixed upon the chatting pair. 
She talked more loudly and lively than ever, and St. Clare 
seemed beside himself At last David marched straight up to 
where they were sitting, and beckoned St. Clare aside. They 
at first talked in a low tone, but presently St. Clare was heard 
to say, ‘You are in no condition to listen to reason now. 
Wait til! to-morrow. You are drunk.’ 

“ ‘ Damnable liar !’ exclaimed David, in a loud voice, which 
22 


338 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


at once produced a breathless silence in the hall. ‘You have 
stolen more than gold from me. You have robbed me of my 
happiness, and, by all the gods! I will be revenged!’ and, 
before St. Clare or any one else was aware of his intentions, 
David drew a glittering dirk, and plunged it to the hilt in his 
breast. St. Clare reeled, staggered, and fell into the arms of 
a bystander. 

‘“You have killed me! you have killed me!’ cried St. 
Clare. 

“Miss Hallam came running up to where poor David was 
standing, looking at the reeking knife. 

“‘O, what have you done?’ shrieked Miss Hallam. 

“David turned upon her with a fierce, wild expression of 
countenance. 

“ ‘Perfidious, faithless wretch!’ he cried, in a voice of thun- 
der. ‘This is all your work. You are a murderess. I was 
only an instrument in your hands. I am no murderer. You 
have done all this. You have murdered St. Clare. Carrie,’ 
he continued, wildly, while the horror-stricken crowd stood 
still in speechless amazement, ‘Carrie, I did love you — yes, I 
did love you — but now it is all gone. I hate you — I utterly 
abhor your very name. You have transformed me into a 
Cain; you have made me an outcast from human society; 
your damnable folly will bring me to the gallows. But you 
are the one who ought to swing, for St. Clare’s blood is on 
your head. You are the murderess — I repeat it, you are the 
murderess. When I am hanged, you will have murdered two. 
You are cut off from heaven, Carrie, and hell is your doom — 
hell is your doom !’ 

“With a loud, unearthly laugh, he fell flat upon his back 
to the floor. Poor Miss Hallam was borne from the room in 
a fainting condition. The horrible scene seems to have been 
too much for her delicate constitution; for the letter which 
you say was found upon my person shows plainly that her 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


339 


mind was wandering. She left Oxford the very next day, and 
I learned, several weeks afterward, that she pined away, and 
died of a broken heart, or rather from the shock she received 
upon the night the tragedy occurred. St. Clare lived only a 
few hours after the fatal stab. My friend became a perfect 
maniac, and never uttered half a dozen sentences afterward. 
His reason was completely prostrated, and he survived the 
awful deed only three days. Miss Hallam, from her letter, 
seems never to have heard of his untimely end. Such, sir, is 
the history of this unfortunate young lady.” 

“There is one thing about the matter,” said Colonel Bur- 
rell, when the spy had paused, “which I do not understand. 
This letter of Miss Hallam’s is addressed to you, and you 
seem to be the person upon whom her affections had once 
been centered. No other name is mentioned in the letter but 
yours.” 

“She had no allusion to me whatever.” 

“How do you make that appear?” 

“The letter was not addressed to me. I have already told 
you that my friend’s name and mine were the same, with a 
very slight difference. My name is Henry S. and his Henry 
T. Winston. We were, however, not at all related. Miss 
Hallam’s T’s and S’s were formed very much alike, if you 
noticed her letter closely. I had left instructions with the 
postmaster at Oxford to forward my letters to my place of 
residence. When, therefore. Miss Hallam’s arrived, the post- 
master, knowing that my friend had been dead for several 
weeks, and mistaking the T for an S, forwarded it to me, to- 
-gether with her miniature. I suppose I must have put them 
both in my pocket. I had forgotten it, and did not know 
that I had them about me until so informed by you. When 
her brother called upon me for an explanation, my mind was 
BO much occupied with another matter that it did not once 
occur to me that he could be unacquainted with this melan* 


340 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


choly event of his sister’s life, and that I had been taken for 
the person to whom the letter was addressed. I was so stung 
with madness and jealousy that I really did not comprehend 
the import of his words. As for myself,” continued the spy, 
with a perceptible blush, “it may not be improper to say 
that I have never loved but once in my life. But, of course, 
under the circumstances, it is useless to say more on that 
subject.” 

To this, Colonel Burrell made no direct reply. He ex- 
pressed his re’gret to find the prisoner in such an unpleasant 
position, and manifested a willingness to ameliorate his dis- 
agreeable situation as far as he could, consistently with the 
demands and the requirements of the law; after which he 
took his leave. 

No sooner had the heavy door closed again than the spy 
seized the red-bound book, and commenced reading eagerly 
among its soiled and torn pages. 

Colonel Burrell immediately went to the ofiSce of Qolonel 
Ellsworth, and learned from him all the particulars in regard 
to the charges preferred against Winston. From Colonel 
Ellsworth’s statement, he saw the folly at once of attempting 
to procure the prisoner’s pardon. He gave up all thought of 
this, therefore, and immediately went to his sister, who was 
awaiting his return in painful anxiety. He related faithfully 
to her what had taken place in the prison ; also the substance 
of the interview with Colonel Ellsworth, omitting, however, 
the name of that officer, by his own request. The reason is 
obvious. 

Emily listened with the most profound and eager attention, 
to all her brother said. 

“You think there is no doubt that he still loves me?” 
asked Emily, after her brother had ceased speaking. 

Colonel Burrell could not tell his sister a falsehood, though 
he felt tempted to do so. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


341 


“I am certain of it,” said he; “but there is no use of even 
thinking of Winston now; he is as good as dead; there is 
not the shadow of a chance for him.” 

“ I will at least see him once more,” she said, very calmly. 

“You will do no such thing,” replied the brother, in a tone 
of vexation. “I will not permit you to disgrace yourself by 
such an act of madness.” 

“Disgrace myself, brother! And where is the disgrace? 
What care I for the people of Washington, or of the whole 
North. Their opinion is nothing to me. Provided my con- 
science tells me I am right, the disgrace attached to the act 
may be trumpeted all over the Yankee land, for aught I care. 
I shall prove true to my country to the last.” 

“People will put a different construction upon the act from 
that. You will be looked upon as true to the maw, and not 
to the reheV' 

“I do not care how they construe it.” 

“Sister, for heaven’s sake, let me persuade you out of this 
notion. What do you expect to gain by it? The man can 
live for only a few days. He is sentenced to die an ignomin- 
ious death; and, by this visit, you will bring disgrace upon 
both of ^s. If you could possibly be benefited by it, I 
should have no objection; but you can gain nothing what- 
ever. On the contrary, your future prospects will be forever 
blasted.” 

“ Talk not to me of prospects, brother. I do not expect to 
survive this southern patriot’s death but a short time. I have 
no desire to live. I never more expect to enjoy happiness on 
this earth, and only long for the time to come when I can lay 
down and die. Then what to me are the opinions of men, 
and the dazzling prospects of ambition? I can not now be 
influenced in the least by such motives.” 

“You are determined on this step, then?” asked the 
Colonel. 


342 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“I am,” was the firm response. 

Colonel Burrell saw that it would be useless to offer further 
opposition to his sister’s wishes and intentions. He, therefore, 
agreed, with great reluctance however, to accompany her to 
the prison. Having mjide all the necessary arrangements, the 
brother and sister proceeded, without delay, to the dark, cold 
cell that shut out Emily’s lover from the bright, gay world. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


343 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

“The ample proposition, that hope makes 
In all designs begun on earth below, 

Fails in the promis’d largeness.” 

There is a touch of romance attached to the idea of a 
young lady meeting her lover in a prison, especially when she 
had been separated from him several years, and kept con- 
stantly in a state of doubt, suspense, and uncertainty. In 
Emily Burrell’s case it indicated great depth of affection, thus 
voluntarily to renounce all her brilliant prospects in life, and 
sacrifice, to some extent, her claims to respectability, at least 
in Washington City, for a rebel spy, condemned to death. 
We shall make no apology for her course of action, but will 
simply ask the reader to extend some little charity and pity to 
one who could thus give up all for love. 

It was with ineffable emotion that Emily stood before the 
huge iron door that concealed her lover from view. She 
shuddered as it screaked upon its hinges, and the jailer mo- 
tioned her to enter. All within was silent and still. The 
ponderous door had closed behind her. Poor Emily, blinded 
by the natural darkness of the cell, and by a sense of fear and 
shame, and by the intensity of her own emotions, arising from 
the peculiarity of her position, said nothing. She was begin- 
ning to think that she had, by mistake, entered an uninhab- 
ited cell, when the outlines of the spy’s form, at first dim and 
indistinct, attracted her attention. By degrees he began to 
assume shape and form, like the gem in the “Arabian Night’s 
Entertainment;” and, in a few seconds, Emily beheld her 
lover, after a long and bitter separation. He was, however, in 
tho same position in which Colonel Burrell had left him — his 


844 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


back to the* door. He was sitting on the solitary stool, bend- 
ing over the old red-backed book with a concentration of mind 
rather unnatural to one whose situation was so perilous. His 
whole mind and soul seemed to be entirely absorbed by the 
red-covered book, and he knew not that a visitor had entered 
the cell. Emily could not speak. She stood still, with her 
feelings in a tumult of confusion and embarrassment. She had 
been thus standing for two minutes, in an awkward and pain- 
ful situation, when the spy suddenly threw down the book and 
commenced to pace the floor. Emily moved, and Winston 
. halted in extreme astonishment at the apparition that met his 
sight. 

“In heaven’s name, who are you?” quickly asked the spy, 
as he looked at the pale, ghost -like form. 

“Henry, have you forgotten me?” 

“ My God, Emily, is it you?” 

He clasped the trembling form in his arms. Emily wept 
upon her lover’s breast, with feelings which the reader may 
imagine, but we can not describe. The holy joy diffused 
through their hearts, mingled with the sad truth that they 
must soon part to meet no more, gave to the scene a most 
melancholy and painful interest. These were the first tears 
of joy she had shed for many long and weary months. When 
her feelings had become more calm, and had somewhat sub- 
sided, the spy tenderly seated her on the stool. 

“It grieves me, my dearest girl,” said he, “to meet you 
again, after such a long period of separation and suffering, in 
such a place as this, and with a prospect of gloom and dark- 
ness before me; for you certainly can not be ignorant of the 
fact that I am a condemned rebel.” 

Poor Emily did not know what reply to make. 

“But,” continued the spy, “I am dishonored by no crime 
save that of serving my native country. To die for that coun- 
try, even in the lowest grade of military rank allotted to the 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


345 


humblest of her defenders, is a privilege which* takes from 
death half its bitterness and its horrors. I do not know, 
though, that I am speaking to one who can enter into my 
feelings, and who holds to the principles of political faith I 
have espoused.” 

“Yes, yes,” she said; “I am a rebel, in principle at least, 
although my brother is an officer in the Federal arm^. He 
is, however, not in service, having lost his foot at the capture 
of Vicksburg, on the 4th of July.” 

“On the 4th?” asked the spy. “I did not know there was 
any fighting on that day.” 

“It was not done in battle. It was caused by a shell, sup- 
posed to have been fired by some of the Confederates, when 
the Yankee army was marching into the city. I never was 
sorry for it much, because I am glad he has been forced to 
leave the army.” 

Winston did not reply to this. He thought it would do no 
good to inform Emily that he was the Confederate who had 
made her brother a cripple for life. 

“ Is it not strange that I was so stupid as to take your own 
brother for your lover, and then your husband?” 

“It is, indeed. I do not know how you could have made 
such a mistake, unless you wanted some pretext to break off 
the engagement.” 

“You do me great injustice by such a supposition,” said 
Winston. “I did not think I could possibly be mistaken, nor 
do I now know what you meant, when I heard you say to 
your brother in the bower, do not love Henry Winston.'' ” 

“Did you hear nothing else?” asked Emily, while a blush 
mantled her cheek. 

“Yes; I heard you tell the person, who has since turned 
out to be your brother, that you loved him. I could endure 
no more. Stung with jealousy, and supposing that you had 
proved false, I fled from the spot, and returned to Mississippi. 


*346 THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 

But what did you mean by saying so emphatically you did 
not love me.” 

“I must first ask you,” said Emily, “whether your feelings 
have changed in regard to me?” 

“Not in the least.” 

“Well, then, I will answer your question. If you had re- 
mained longer, where you were, you would have heard me 
say, ‘ I do not love Henry Winston — it is more than that — 1 
adore him.^ ” 

“Is it possible,” said the spy, imprinting a kiss upon the 
blushing face, “I could have been such a numskull? But I 
have paid for my folly and rashness a thousand times over. 
I wrote you a cruel letter, and threatened to forget you, but 
my efforts to do that met with ill success. Sometimes I have 
been able, for a short time, to banish your image, under the 
pressure of military business, but not often. The harder I 
struggled to forget, the more vividly would your form rise up 
before my imagination, and would seem to reproach me with 
my cruelty and faithlessness. Very frequently would the 
conviction come into my mind that I had acted rashly ; that 
I alone was to blame ; and sometimes I did not care whether I 
lived or died. Had not our bleeding country needed and de- 
manded my services, I would have preferred death to a life of 
solitary misery.” 

“I, too, have suffered,” replied Emily. “No human being 
can tell what bitter pangs I have endured, and what griefs 
have rankled in this aching heart. My case was different 
from yours. I have had nothing to occupy my mind but my 
own disappointment. While you could forget your cares and 
troubles amid the exciting vicissitudes and adventures natural 
to war, I have brooded in silent selfishness over my own pri- 
vate sufferings. In vain have I visited scenes of gayety; the 
phantoms of blasted hopes and slighted love have embittered 
every moment of my wretched existence. There is too much 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 347 

proof of what I say, in this wasted form and these pale 
cheeks.” 

“Ours, my too faithful girl,” said the spy, tenderly, “has 
been an unhappy lot; but we ought not to murmur at the 
decrees of Providence. God. perhaps, for his own wise pur- 
poses, intended that we should thus live; and we should 
console ourselves with the reflection that he has done all for 
the best. We are not to expect much happiness, my dearest 
Emily, in this world of privation and trial. We were not 
placed here to adopt the old epicurean philosophy — ‘eat, 
drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die.’ Life is a mere 
state of probation, granted us to prepare for eternity, and we 
are happy or miserable, in a worldly sense, as it afiects our 
eternal destinies. God deprives us of happiness if he sees 
the deprivation will be best for the welfare of the immortal 
principle. We ought, therefore, to submit with Christian 
resignation to the wise dispensations of Providence. We can 
And no true happiness this side the Jordan of death; it may, 
please the great Creator soon to call us both from this state 
of wretchedness. Our only aim, then, should be to be ready 
when the summons comes. In all probability, I at least will 
soon be called to try the flery ordeal of death. We may soon 
part; but, my dearest, let us meet beyond the skies,” said the 
spy, in a low, solemn tone, that touched the poor girl to the 
heart. 

“ 0, Henry,” said the wretched girl, with tears in her eyes, 
“do not talk thus; you will MU me. You must not leave me. 
You must not die. You must escape. You must leave here.” 

“Emily, my sweet one,” said the spy, sorrowfully, “you 
scarcely know what you are saying. I wish I could live, if 
only for your sake. If you were gone before, to the eternal 
world, God knows I would lay down my poor life upon the 
altar of my country as freely as I now breathe. You are the 
only tie that binds me to this earth. But we will not long be 


348 TUE CONFEDERATE SPY. 

separated. Life is but a spau. I may go on before you down 
to the darkness of, death, but you will follow, in a few years 
at most; and then we will meet, I trust, to part no more.” 

“No,” replied Emily, “we will not be separated long. If 
you die,. I do not wish to live ; I must not live ; I will not live. 
But Henry,” she cried, springing up, “you must not die; you 
must not be murdered. You shall not die! Grod will not 
allow it. I tell you, God, if he is just, can not allow it!” 

Henry Winston gazed in surprise at the wretched girl as 
she uttered this wild, strange language. He greatly feared, 
from the unearthly brilliancy of her eyes, and their curious 
expression, that her intellect was staggering. He could not 
well conceal the deep emotion of his own heart when he 
looked upon the frail, fragile form, trembling and quivering 
like the aspen. He, therefore, remained silent for a moment, 
in speechless agony; then rising from the floor, where he had 
been kneeling at Emily’s side, he made a few strides across 
, the cell. “ God of salvation,” prayed the spy aloud, “ suffer 
me not to drink this last cup of bitterness.” He was inter- 
rupted. A soft, thin, emaciated hand was placed tenderly 
upon his shoulder. Emily gazed with a degree of startling 
eagerness into his face. 

“Henry, you shall not die yet; I feel it. God will not let 
you die upon the gibbet. If he does, there is no justice in 
heaven.” 

“0, wretched, wretched girl!” cried the spy, folding her to 
his heart. 

. He could say no more, but pressed the yielding form to his 
heaving breast, and silently prayed to the great High Power, 
to shelter, to protect, to guide the soul of his faithful love, 
who had indeed proved true “even unto death.” At last he 
reseated her upon the stool, knelt by her side, took her trem- 
bling hand in his own, and spoke in a soft, humbled tone: 

“Emily, listen to me. I am deeply pained at your bias- 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


349 


phemy and profanity. Call not in question the justice of God, 
though heaven and earth should fail, and every human being 
should perish. It matters not how I may die — whether upon 
the gibbet, upon the battle-field, or of old age, surrounded by 
friends — it will be in accordance with His will j and His wise 
purposes, mysterious though they be, will thus be accom- 
plished. God gave us life, and he will take it from us at the 
appointed time, however severe and trying the bereavement 
may be to those who would have us live. We are very fre- 
quently necessitated to witness dispensations that conflict with 
our notions of right and justice. The righteous often go 
mourning all their days, cramped by adversity and scorned 
by the world, while the wicked flourish and enjoy all the 
pleasures of earthly prosperity. The case of Hives and Laz- 
arus is not the only one which could be placed upon record. 
Again, we are forced to surrender our friends — our fathers, 
our mothers, our brothers, and our sisters — and then poor, 
tried human nature is disposed to attribute injustice and 
cruelty to . the great Creator. But all these things, be as- 
sured, are right and just, though we may not be able to see it, 
clogged as we are by the desires and propensities of mortality. 
Heath is the common lot of all. All must sooner or later 
yield to his merciless shafts. He comes unbidden at all 
hours, like a thief in the night. We should always be ready 
to meet the dread, inevitable summons. Now, Emily, we 
must soon part. In all probability we will never meet again. 
Let me, then, advise you, let me beseech you, to devote your 
remaining life to the service of the world’s Bedeemer. Con- 
secrate your heart to that God by whose mysterious power it 
now pulsates. The time will come when you will be com- 
pensated, even in this life, for all the sacrifices you may make 
upon the altar of religion. When you come to lie upon the 
bed of death, and all the glory of this earth shall fade into 
insignificance; when all mortal means have failed; when all 


850 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


human philosophy is powerless to furnish a single ray of com- 
fort and hope to the troubled spirit, thanks he to the God 
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, you will be sustained and 
soothed by the philosophy of religion.” 

“I acknowledge,” said Emily, “that I have been hasty and 
rash. It was a thoughtless expression which I used, and one 
which I really did not mean. But I can not bear the idea of 
your calmly submitting to an ignominious death, when you 
might possibly avoid it. You have doubtless often met with 
difficulties as great as this. Have you no hope, then, of 
escape; or do you intend to yield tamely?” 

“I do not wish,” said the spy, slowly, “to flatter you, or 
myself either, with vain illusions. Of course I shall do every 
thing in my power to save my life; but, as yet, I can not 
say that I have found any thing tangible upon which to base 
a reasonable hope. All, you know, may fail. If so, I can 
but resign myself to my fate, and drink of that bitter cup 
which soon must come to all.” 

“Do you not think,” asked Emily, “as a dernier resort, you 
could take the oath, and afterward return to the South?” 

“No, no, Emily; I could not take the oath. My enemies 
would not sufiFer that now, were I disposed to do so. Besides, 
I would die before I would disgrace myself by such an act of 
degradation. I am too proud, and I care too little for life, to 
humble myself to that extent before these savage vandals, who 
have reduced the South to ruin. They have already robbed 
me of every thing but my good name and my honor. Let 
them take my life, but they can never make me ask it at their 
hands. I have endeavored to discharge my duty. I believe 
the South is in the right. I have espoused her cause, and 
have never regretted for a single moment the course I have 
pursued. Some of our countrymen, I know, are violently 
opposed to the Confederacy, but as for me, thank God, I have 
never yet ‘sighed for the flesh-pots of Egypt.’” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


351 


“I admire your nice sense of honor and your patriotism,” 
replied Emily; “but pride and conscientious scruples, in my 
opinion, should give way to the preservation of life. As in 
your calling you could not always have adhered strictly to the 
truth, I do not see that you should hesitate now to adopt any 
plan by which you could save yourself” 

“it is true, as you say, Emily, I have not always adhered 
to the truth ; but then I have never done violence to my con- 
science for personal aggrandizement. Very frequently I have 
been forced to prevaricate. But in war spies are indispens- 
able, and I believe all nations have recognized the system 
of espionage as right and proper, while at the same time they 
have attached a heavy penalty to its practice. Belligerents, 
therefore, say, ‘Deceive me if you can, but if I can catch you, 
the consequence is death.’ I have never yet, though, taken 
the oath, and I never will do it, and thus bow before Yankee 
oppressors, even to save my own life.” 

“You can surely have no objection to the process of bribery. 
That will require no sacrifice of honor and principle.” 

“I have been thinking of that,” said the spy, thoughtfully. 
“The attempt will, however, be attended with extreme diffi- 
culty. I have had no opportunity yet to try any thing. The 
sentinel at the door is not allowed to hold any conversation 
with me. Besides all this, in my present condition, I might 
not be able to raise the necessary funds, for more than one 
must be bribed into silence.” 

“ That shall be no impediment, Henry. My whole fortune 
is at your disposal. Take it; use it all, if needed, and con- 
sider it one sacrifice for the Confederate cause.” 

“God bless the true woman!” cried the spy, again folding 
the blushing girl to his heart. “I never can repay your gene- 
rosity, my dearest one, unless I 'should be so fortunate as to 
escape, and then I hope to make amends for all the suffering 
which I have caused you. But I do not wish you to embar- 


352 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


rass yourself, or jeopardize your own safety, in order to effect 
my rescue. You have already sacrificed too much in honor- 
ing me with this unexpected visit.” 

“Say not so,” said she. “What is friendship or love if it 
must yield to the first blasts of adversity? But we will talk 
of all these things after you have escaped. We must now 
make the necessary arrangements. How do you propose to 
try the experiment?” 

“ The only way I see is to bribe the guards. They may 
be induced to release me at night. If I can once get into 
the city, I think I can possibly get out and away before it 
could be discovered The difficulty is, I can have no oppor- 
tunity to talk with the soldiers on post.” 

“ Then I will manage it all,” replied Emily. 

“No, no; I can not suffer that,” cried the spy. “I will 
not allow you thus to endanger your own life to save mine. 
You have already run sufficient risks.” 

“It must be done, Henryj it must be done. You inust es- 
cape this very night if possible. Do not attempt to dissuade 
me from my purpose. Only do your part, and before to- 
morrow morning you will be free.” 

“I would rather, my dear Emily, you would not take so 
much upon yourself.” 

“Suffer no uneasiness on my account. I believe the affair 
can be very easily managed. These Yankees will do any 
thing for a little gold ; let me manage it.” 

“Have your own way, then, and may heaven crown your 
efforts with success. But if we fail, my dearest one, and it 
should be our sad destiny to meet no more on earth; if I 
must die, and leave you, strive to obtain that inheritance 
which fadeth not away. Live for God, and when we meet 
in the eternal world, we will still love with an affection 
higher, holier, and nobler than that which belongs to human 
nature.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


353 


They parted. When Emily had gone, the spy stood in a 
kind of bewildering stupefaction. It all appeared so like a 
dream of the night. He could scarcely realize the fact that 
after a long, painful separation, marked with such a diversity 
of mournful events, checkered with the scenes of a savage 
conflict, and variegated with the natural changes inevitable 
in the progress of time, he had again met Emily Burrell, un- 
changed in her feelings and affections. Those whose expe- 
rience justifies the oft-quoted line, “the course of true love 
never did run smooth,” who have felt the pangs of jealousy 
and disappointment, and who have afterward made up, of the 
famous lovers^ quarrel^ can, without any difficulty, imagine 
Henry Winston’s emotions, and the wild joy of his heart. 
But those who have felt the sweets of reconciliation amid 
blooming bowers, have never tasted of the bitter cup which 
the spy drained to the dregs in that dark, loathsome cell. It 
has been the misfortune of few to make the edaircissenient of 
the lovers’ quarrel with death staring them in the face. God 
forbid it should be the lot of many ! 

The spy, however, was not a man to indulge in unavailing 
regrets, or to yield submissively to the despondency and de- 
spair which would have paralyzed the most of hearts in such 
a trying hour. Arousing himself from his gloomy and mel- 
ancholy stupor, he sighed, uttered in a low voice, “It may all 
fail,” and commenced pacing the floor. He then turned to 
the stool; Emily’s handkerchief was lying on it; he observed 
that it was carefully rolled up, and, upon opening it, what was 
the spy’s surprise to find five thousand dollars in “green- 
backs!” 

“0, woman I in our hours of ease, 

Uncertain, coy, and hard to please. 

And variable as the shade 

By the light quivering aspen made: 

When pain and anguish wring the brow, 

A ministering angel thou.” 

23 


854 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Presently the gloonay door again opened, and a feeling of 
joy swelled in Winston’s heart, as he expected it was Emily 
about to re-enter; but not so. It was another visitor of a 
different character, whom the spy nevertheless welcomed with 
a degree of eagerness and vehemence rather foreign to his 
disposition. After some few common -place remarks, they en- 
tered into a long conversation, in the course of which the old 
red-backed book was very frequently called into requisition. 
They spoke almost in whispers, as if they feared the very 
walls had ears. At the end of two hours, the visitor took 
his leave, and the spy was again left to the solitude of his 
narrow cell. He was disturbed no more during the day. 

That night, at the usual hour, the spy’s supper was brought 
in. The guard, heretofore, had merely opened the door, and 
handed in the provisions without the utterance of a word: but 
this time, contrary to his usual custom, he entered the cell, and 
remained while the meal was being dispatched. Winston, 
however, made no remark, but still waited anxiously for the 
soldier to break the silence. He was not disappointed, for no 
sooner had he finished his supper than the man spoke. 

“It is necessary to move you to new quarters,” said the 
Yankee. 

“Why?” asked the spy. “I should think this apartment is 
sufficiently safe.” 

“Safe enough,” replied the fellow, “for some purposes; but 
it is thought best to put you in a safer place.” 

Winston skw from the man’s emphasis that “safer” was an 
ambiguous term, but he greatly feared to put upon it the con- 
struction he would have desired. He moved to the “new 
quarters” with mingled feelings of doubt and hope. He 
thought it best not to ask any questions, which might arouse 
suspicions as to his intentions. He was very soon placed in 
another cell, which differed from the one he had previously 
occupied by having a window, which, however, was secured by 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


355 


stout iron bars. The soldier entered' with him. When they 
were fairly within, Winston cast a searching glance at the fel- 
low, which appeared to be understood ; for the soldier pointed 
to a rope lying in one corner, and then at the window. 

“What do you mean?” asked the spy. 

“You must be dull if you can’t take a hint,” was the reply. 

“It is fast,” said Winston, pointing at the window. 

“ They work like draw-bars^ 

“What, then, am I to do?” 

“ If you can’t understand it, I sha’ n’t explain it. I have 
d Dne my part. I ’ve no time to talk now. I have already 
tarried too long. I don’t think I will bring your breakfast 
to you.” So saying, he left the cell, and closed and locked 
the door. 

Winston laid down on his bed, similar in all respects to the 
one he had just left,, but he did not sleep. He was thinking 
of Emily Burrell, and the strange events of the last few hours, 
and wondering if Providence would again favor him in his 
effort to escape. He lay thus musing until the hour of eleven 
arrived, and then arose, stood upon a stool, and listened at the 
window. All seemed to be silent without. He went boldly 
to work, confident that all the necessary precautions with the 
guard had been taken. The iron bars easily yielded, and 
worked as the Yankee had said. In less time than it takes 
to write it, the way was clear. The cell was three stories 
from the ground. So taking the rope he fastened it to the 
lower bar in the window, and then climbed down with little 
noise to the pavement below. No person was visible, and 

the spy walked rapidly down street. He halted not 

till he came to a window, in which two lights were burning. 
The reader need not be told that this was Emily Burrell’s 
room. Winston made the signal agreed upon, and Emily, 
after removing the candles, raised the window and beheld 
her lover. 


856 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“ Thank heaven, Henry, you are here. I have been 
anxiously looking for you. But the danger is not over 
yet; you must leave instantly.” 

“Not till I have thanked you, dearest, for your generosity, 
and learned where we shall meet again.” 

“ This paper,” she said, handing him a letter, “ will explain 
all, and give you all the information you will need as to my 
whereabouts. Now leave at once.” 

“Do not be in such haste, my dear Emily. I have plenty 
of time.” 

“You do not know all that I do, or you would not loiter 
here. I have no time to enter into explanations now. You 
have not a moment to lose. Fly, Henry, fly, or all will 
be lost.” 

It would have been well for the spy had he taken Emily’s 
advice sooner; for just as he was on the point of turning 
slowly and reluctantly away, he found himself suddenly sur- 
rounded by half a dozen armed soldiers. 

“Yes, Miss Emily,” exclaimed a voice, which both the 
lovers had reason to hate, “all is lost. A beautiful piece of 
business this is. I declare ” 

But Walter Hallam suddenly checked himself, for reasons 
which will be obvious in the sequel. A thought seemed to 
strike him just at the beginning of a tirade of abuse, and he 
walked up close to the window, and whispered in her ear: 

“Beware, Emily, beware! No harm shall come to you if 
you are only discreet.” 

Poor Emily was so overcome with feelings of fear and mor- 
tification that she made no reply. She had again been foiled 
by the very man whom she could not even think of but with 
sentiments of utter abhorrence and detestation. She, however, 
concealed her emotions as well as she could, silently closed the 
window, and seated herself, because she could not stand, while 
thoughts of fearful apprehension were playing through her 


THE COJSTFEDERATE SPY. 


357 


mind. The impossibility of her lover’s escape produced 
pangs that shot through her despairing heart like jagged 
arrows. 

“No thought within her bosom stirs, 

But wakes some feeling dark and dread; 

God keep thee from a doom like hers, 

Of living when the hopes are dead.” 

“ I presume your tete-a-tete was quite interesting, Mr. Win- 
ston,” said Hallam, in a tone of mock politeness, as soon as 
Emily had disappeared. “I beg your pardon for interrupting 
you so unceremoniously. But in these war times, you know, 
we are frequently disturbed even in our dreams, much less 
our pleasant waking moments. You have been guilty, Mr. 
Winston, of great ingratitude, in your attempt to leave your 
friends without notice or a farewell. Here you have been 
furnished with comfortable quarters, and nice food, all gratis^ 
but still you depart without thanking those who have put 
themselves to all this trouble for you. However, in the future, 
your kind friends will not allow you so much latitude. They 
have too much love for you.” 

To this unmanly sarcasm Winston did not deign to reply, 
and they moved back to the prison. He was then confined in 
the very same cell which he had at first occupied. 

“lam happy, Mr. Winston,” producing a pair of handcufis, 
when they had entered the cell, “I am happy to present you 
these nice bracelets, which some of your good friends have 
had the kindness to procure. Here is also a very pretty 
chain, from the same benevolent source, for your ankles. We 
do not wish you to take too much exercise ; it is not good for 
your health. You see, we have an affectionate regard for 
you.” 

Accordingly the spy was manacled hand and foot, and then 
left alone to his own gloomy reflections. What they were we 
leave the reader to imagine. 


358 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


He remained in this condition until the day of his execution 
arrived. Emily had done all that affection could suggest to 
procure her lover’s release, but it was all unavailing, and she 
gave it up in utter dark despair President Davis also made 
an effort to save the hero, and proposed to Mr. Lincoln to 
exchange a Federal spy, by the name of David McGibbons. 
“If Mr. Lincoln would release Winston, he (Davis) would 
release McGibbons, upon the condition that both should re- 
main in their respective countries during the war.” But Mr. 
Lincoln replied, “that spies could not be treated as prisoners 
of war, and that he did not feel disposed at this late day to 
make an innovation upon the established usages of nations. 
If McGibbons had been found guilty of the charges alleged, 
it was with Mr. Davis to deal with him as he thought proper,” 
etc. (We may here state, in consequence of Mr. Lincoln’s 
refusal to agree to the humane proposition of President Davis, 
David McGibbons was executed at Demopolis, Ala., the 11th 
day of February, 1864. Who, then, is justly chargeable with 
his death?) 

Thus the last chance of the Confederate spy seemed to be 
gone; and here, omitting minor events, which are of but little 
interest to the reader, we must leave him until the next day, 
which was appointed for his execution. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


359 


CHAPTER XXV. 

“The last, the fatal hour is come, 

That bears my love from mej 
I hear the dead-note of the drum — 

I mark the gallows-tree.” 

It is strange with what feelings of melancholy pleasure we 
witness the last struggles of a fellow-creature in the agonies 
of expiring nature. We are somehow peculiarly fascinated 
and irresistibly attracted by the mournful scenes of a death- 
bed. The ominous silence which reigns throughout the dom- 
icil in which the solemn event is transpiring; the strange 
contrast between this silence within and the jarring bustle and 
din of the busy world without; the noiseless tread of specta- 
tors and friends; the grief and tears of the immediate rela- 
tives of the dying man; and, lastly, the victim himself, with 
his glazing eyes, painful respiration, convulsive shudders, 
slowly sinking down to the tranquillity of death — all these 
things possess irresistibly charms for the living. When the 
last gasp is over, and the victim is no longer in a condition to 
afford pleasure by the drama of dying, we leave the room 
with a feeling akin to shame — or at least ought to — for our 
mysterious curiosity, and then hasten to surprise our friends 
with the sad tidings. Human nature is disposed to deny 
these assertions, or at least each man will believe them true 
of every body but himself. Our acts, however, are in direct 
antagonism to our words. The assertions above made are 
demonstrated by an indisputable fact we will now mention, 
which all have probably observed. Let a man be confined to 
his bed by a spell of sickness — his neighbors all keep aloof, 
or visit only when it would be a shame not to do so ; but let 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


mo 

it be announced that the unfortunate man is about to make 
his exit into the land of dreamless slumber — then all, some- 
how, feel under sacred obligations, and they endeavor to make 
amends for dereliction of duty by honoring him with their 
presence in his last moments. As soon as the exhibition is 
ended, we are disposed to take our leave at once, with our 
diabolical curiosity gratified, and let the poor corpse rest in 
peace. God save you and me, reader, in our last hours of 
time, from the unholy gaze of 

“ The curious, questioning eye, 

That plucks the heart of every mystery.” 

I would we could die like good old Moses, and be buried in 
some unknown spot; and thus escape the impertinent, love- 
to-gaze-upon-death inspection of people who would, if they 
could, ask us how we felt in the new and unknown clime. 
Let it be spoken in a whisper, that nobody feels true, genuine 
sorrow when a man dies, except his close relatives, who are 
directly interested in his welfare, or rather in their own wel- 
fare. The world is glad he is gone. It can be written upon 
every tombstone what somebody put at the head of his de- 
ceased wife’s grave : 

“My wife is dead, and here she lies — 

Nobody laughs, and nobody cries; 

Of where she ’s gone, or how she fares. 

Nobody knows, and nobody cares.” 

These assertions are fully demonstrated and verified, be- 
yond all dispute and controversy, when a fellow-being is to be 
coolly and deliberately put to death by law, or murdered by 
the strong hand of civil power. This, in the United States, is 
a spectacle free for all — a public exhibition, without money 
and without price — but yet designed to inculcate useful pre- 
cepts, convey wholesome lessons, and furnish warning to law- 
breaking sinners. It is, nevertheless, a magnificent show, and 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


361 


a grand entertainment for the public. We venture to assert 
that the old blood-loving Romans never witnessed a combat 
between skillful gladiators with greater feelings of eagerness 
and interest than civilized Americans, including both Yankees 
and rebels, behold the solemn preparations for a legal execu- 
tion. The spectacle unaccountably arouses a pleasant, trem- 
bling, melancholy excitement. Nearly every body is like the 
Irish woman in the following anecdote, though destitute of 
her candor in the confession of her disappointment. 

An Irishman, for some offense, was condemned to suffer 
the extreme penalty of the law. He was to die by hanging. 
A short time before the execution, his wife visited him in the 
prison. When about to bid him farewell, she asked, with 
tears in her eyes : 

“Mayn’t me an’ the childers come to see you hung to- 
morrow?” 

“No,” said the indignant husband; “stay at home.” 

“That’s just like ye,” said she; “you never did want me 
an’ the poor little dears to sa iny flazurer 

An observer who will watch the minutiae of an execution, 
will be convinced of the truth of what we have been saying. 
The day before the occurrence of the tragical scene, two posts, 
fifteen or twenty feet in altitude, are set upright in the ground. 
A beam, four or five feet in length, is fastened to the top 
of each; then a rope is tied middleways of the beam, and 
the fatal noose is made at its end. Indications of some un- 
usual occurrence are seen early in the morning of the day 
upon which the execution is to take place. Noisy boys, who 
have talked and dreamed of the event for days before, and 
who have flocked from the hills and hollows for miles around, 
begin to crowd the streets, the prison, and the gibbet. The 
parents of the little urchins have had the kindness to promise 
them this delightful entertainment, for probably a fortnight 
previous, upon the condition of good behavior in the future 


362 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Wagon-loads of hoosiers and darkies begin to pour in; and 
by the time the sun is fairly risen, the town is overrun with a 
motley assembly, gathered together from all quarters, anxious 
to see a fellow-creature die. With eager looks, they collect 
around the prisoner’s cell, endeavoring to have a peep at the 
features of the doomed man; and also through fear that he 
may be lead off to death before they are aware of it. When 
the prisoner is seated upon his coffin in the wagon, he is 
honored by a large multitude all the way to the place of exe- 
cution. Arriving, at this dreadful spot, he beholds another 
numerous audience; some of whom,* to have a better view of 
the beauties of the exhibition, have climbed up the surround- 
ing trees, and perched upon all other elevations in the imme- 
diate vicinity of the fascinating center 0^ attraction. The 
wretch steps upon the platform, takes his position upon the 
trap-door, the rope is adjusted about his neck, the black cap 
is pulled over his face, and the executioner steps down to tap 
the trigger. What a breathless silence now reigns throughout 
the mighty multitude! But if, at this moment, a courier 
should hasten up with a reprieve or pardon, the vast crowd 
would wish the messenger at the bottom of endless perdition 
for bringing such bad news, and thus checking the interesting 
performance. (What a “rascal is human nature!”) Not 
until the door falls — the doomed culprit drops and struggles 
for a quarter of an hour — is the tender-hearted multitude re- 
lieved of its blissful excitement. They then disperse, and the 
urchins hasten home to regale their parents and friends (i. e., 
all those who were unfortunately prevented from attending the 
exhibition) with a relation of the scenes of the day, and the 
sorrowful event which will constitute an epoch in the history 
of their lives. 

All these preliminary remarks find their application in the 
execution of Henry Winston, whicli was to take place on 
that much-slandered day recognized by the superstitious as 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


363 


prejudicial, if not fatal, to success in the inception of under- 
takings, enterprises, and projects. He was honored with the 
attendance, customary upon such occasions, of boys, hoosiers, 
and negroes. 

Early in the morning the prisoner was visited by two per- 
sonages; one a minister of the gospel, and the other Dr. 
Vernon. These two remained with the spy about two hours, 
and then retired. Soon after the Provost Marshal entered 
and informed our hero that the awful hour had arrived. It 
did not take Winston long to make the necessary preparations 
for leaving the cell forever. 

“It is ordered that you shall wear this placard'^ said the 
Provost, stepping to the door and bringing a paste- board con- 
taining, in large bl^k letters, the words — THE REBEL SPY. 

“Why,” said the prisoner, “may I ask, is it thought proper 
to insult a doomed man with such an indignity? Is not the 
ignominious penalty itself a sufficient degradation?” 

“ I do not suppose,” replied the officer, “ it is done particu- 
larly as an act of disgrace to you, but more to let the people 
know for what you have been condemned. I did not, how- 
ever, inquire of my superior officers the reason for this pro- 
ceeding. I always obey orders without asking questions. I 
should think, though, it would make but little difference with 
you; it will all be over and forgotten in a few hours.” 

“True, true; it is a matter of little consequence. The 
Savior is none the less revered because he wore a crown of 
thorns upon his bleeding head. It matters not with him, 
then, if the heart be right, whether a man expires upon the 
couch of Dives or the hard bed of Lazarus. You may dis- 
grace this temple of clay, but, thank God, you can not garb 
the invisible soul in the habiliments of dishonor.” The spy 
slightly bent, his head, and received the placard on his neck. 

The procession now commenced. Henry Winston, seated 
upon his coffin, was attended by several companies of the 


364 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


military — both cavalry and infantry. The vehicle moved cir- 
cuitously through the city, in order to give all a view of the 
celebrated rebel spy. One distinguishing and most remark- 
able feature in this procession was a large collection of 
LADIES. (Mark it, historians!) By the term “ladies” we do 
not simply have reference to the vile rabble of females who 
have lost all self-respect, and are destitute of shame and 
modesty; nor do we allude to the lower classes of society, 
born and bred in the backwoods, who have never heard of 
the letters of Chesterfield; and who, in mind, taste, and man- 
ner, difier very little from the “rougher sex.” But the truth 
must be told on the elite of Washington City; and the gay 
belles, who had attended the President’s levees; who had 
conformed strictly to all the artificial rule^ and requirements 
of etiquette; who, in a word, had moved all their lives in the 
“ so-called ” ui^er circles of society — ^were now seen mounted 
upon high-spirited chargers, following an unfortunate rebel to 
the gallows. Some of these ladies were distinguished authors, 
whose works have been extensively circulated in the South — 
abolition authors, whose damnable books have extracted 
princely fortunes from southern wealth, and over whose 
sickly, morbid sentimentalisms, in regard to the imaginary 
wrongs of the “poor” negro, southern readers have wept 
tears of blood. May Grod forgive you, southern reader, if 
you be guilty! 

We forbear to make any further commentary upon this un- 
usual spectacle; but we must ask the reader to kindly and 
charitably remember, because these are our “northern sisters,” 
rendered so by ties of steel (and therefore much stronger than 
the bonds of natural affection), that war has both an immoral- 
izing and c?emoralizing effect, throughout all the ramifica- 
tions of human society. But the procession moved on, and 
many an eye read that day those large hlack letters — The 
Rebel Spy. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


365 


Reader, we will, for a moment, leave this motley crowd, and 
watch the proceedings of a female, in the solitude of her 
room. Her wild, unnatural appearance would have aroused 
a sentiment of pity in the breast of a savage. When the 
procession moved opposite the house at which poor Emily 
Burrell was staying, she could not withstand the strong- 
temptations of curiosity to look forth from her window. 
The first object which met her eye was her doomed lover, 
with the conspicuous placard upon his breast. The sight 
was too much for her delicate nerves. She staggered, reeled, 
and fell to the floor, overcome by a sudden rush of feelings of 
anguish and despair. She could now, indeed, have exclaimed ; 

Cursed fatel malicious stars 1 you now have drained 

Yourselves of all your poisonous influence; 

Even the last baleful drop is shed upon meP* 

Emily lay thus a short time, then suddenly rose and paced 
the room in indescribable agony and anguish. Then she 
stopped, gazed vacantly, and again commenced her wild, rapid 
walk. At last she halted at a small table, and unconsciously 
opened a Bible. Her eyes fell upon a passage which seemed 
to arrest her attention, and partially relieve the intolerable 
commotion of her overcharged heart. She read: “Hear me 
when I call, 0 God of my righteousness; thou hast enlarged 
me when I was in distress ; have mercy upon me, and hear my 
prayer.” She came to the fifth verse: “Offer the sacrifices of 
righteousness, and put your trust in the Lord.” 

“ I will try it. He advised me,” she continued, communing 
with herself, and referring to Henry Winston, “ to prove the 
promises of Holy Writ and the merits of the Christian re- 
ligion;” and she knelt down by the table, seen only by God, 
and offered up the earnest prayer of a suffering, breaking 
heart. 

“God of truth and salvation! I call upon thee from the 
depths of wretchedness. Thou hast promised aid and conso- 


366 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


lation to the children of men in the hour of distress. That 
hour has now come to one who feels a sense of her own utter 
helplessness, and desires the comfort of thy holy truth. All 
human means have failed. The power, glory, and wealth of 
the world bring no relief to the aching heart. Comfort me in 
this trying hour with the outpourings of thy abundant mercy 
and truth. 0 God! calm the anguish of this bleeding heart 
by the power of religion, and I promise that henceforth my 
whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to 
thy service.” 

The vow was heard, that simple prayer was answered, and 
He who said “Seek and ye shall find” verified the promise 
to Emily Burrell. A new light burst upon her soul, and she 
felt a holy calm diffused through her heart. Emily rose from 
her kneeling posture. She knew that God had touched her 
with the finger of his great and holy love. 

“ Thank God, I can endure it — I can endure it all now I 
Yes, Henry, I will meet thee in heaven.” 

The procession had now reached the gibbet. A hollow 
square, composed of four companies of infantry, was formed 
around the gallows, to keep out those whose curiosity was 
stronger' than their sense of self-respect. The ladies arranged 
themselves in military order back of the infantry. In the 
rear of the ladies the cavalry was drawn up. Behind these 
was an immense congregation of human beings, of all shapes, 
colors, sizes, and descriptions. Every civilized race in the 
world was here represented, thus proving that the lov6 of wit- 
nessing death is natural to all “kindreds, tribes, and people.” 

When every thing was ready, the prisoner ascended the 
scaffold with a firm, steady step; not a single muscle quivered; 
no sign whatever indicated that the prisoner felt any unusual 
emotion. He reminded one of some of the heroes of an- 
tiquity — the god-like Achilles, described by the ancient poets. 
His calm countenance wore its habitual aspect of serenity 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


367 


and self-possession ; his tall, manly form stood erect upon the 
platform; and he looked around upon the vast audience 
with an expression that caused a hum of admiration to run 
throughout the motley, multitude. 

“What a pity! what a pity!” was heard from five hundred 
mouths. 

“The finest-looking gentleman I ever heheld!” cried one 
young lady, with a sort of semi-sympathizing gaze. “What 
a pity he should be a rebel !” 

“Umph!” exclaimed a fidgety Miss, with more brass than 
brains and modesty, “I don’t blame that Miss ‘What’s-her- 
name’ for taking on as they say she did. -I could have no 
objection niyself to such a handsome man, if he were only 
loyal. I declare I do feel right sorry for the poor fellow.” * 

“I do wonder,” thought to herself a maid who had culled 
the fiowers of thirty-five summers, “ I do wonder what makes 
men such fools. There are not half enough husbands now 
for the widows and girls, without shooting and hanging each 
other in this style. Now, if I had my way, I would pardon 
the unfortunate man, I do n’t care whether he is guilty or not. 
I don’t see any use in murdering a handsome man like he is, 
when he would make some poor girl a good husband.” The 
old maid sighed, and thought that fifteen years ago she would 
liked very much to have met just such a man. 

Something was now said to the spy by the Provost Marshal, 
which was not heard outside the hollow square. Winston, 
however, turned to the audience, and spoke as follows: 

“I am asked what I have to say why sentence of death 
should not be executed upon me according to the decree of 
the military court. Upon this point I have nothing to say. 
If the United States authorities deem the crimes imputed to 
me worthy of death, I must submit without a murmur. I 
have only to regret that I have not been more successful in 
serving the cause which honor and a sense of justice to an 


368 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


oppressed people called upon me to espouse. I believe the 
South is right in this contest; and you may murder me; you 
may lay to the dust every soldier who fights for the establish- 
ment of her independence; you may devastate every foot of 
her soil, but the victory will be a barren triumph, and the 
principle of secession will remain as firm and unshaken as 
ever— guaranteed by your Constitution to every state that 
entered into the political contract. The self-same moment, 
then, that you subjugate the South, you sap the very founda- 
tions of your own freedom ; you subvert the fundamental 
principles upon which your government is based, and erect 
upon the ruins of a once proud republic a despotism more 
galling and oppressive than any tyranny ever exercised over 
ancient Rome.” 

“Down with the traitor! down with the rebel!” cried 
Walter Hallam, joined by numerous rabid radicals. 

The spy paused, and manifested no disposition to say more. 
But suddenly a new exclamation was heard. It seemed to 
come from a thousand voices at once: 

“Go on! go on! go on!” 

“Down with the copperheads! down with the copper- 
heads!” ‘now resounded throughout the mighty concourse. 

“Free spache, be Jasus! free spache!” thundered an Irish- 
man, from a sapling, in a voice that attracted all eyes to him- 
self for a moment. “Let the ribel talk, if he wants.” 

The crowd took up the cry, and “free speech!” “free 
sjteech!” went the rounds. A scene of general confusion was 
about to take place, and the consequences might have been 
serious; but at this moment a government ofl&cer, held in 
great respect in Washington City, quickly mounted the scaf- 
fold, where Winston was standing, the most unconcerned 
of all. 

“Citizens and soldiers!” said the officer — immediately a 
profound silence ensued — “it is not the intention of the 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


369 


government to deprive the prisoner of the right of speech, 
although he has taken advantage of the privilege granted him 
to insult you with the utterance of treason. But, however, 
if he should choose to defend the cause in which he has been 
engaged, rather than show reason why he should not be 
executed, let him do so. The cause of the Union is too high 
and noble to be injured by a rebel under the gallows. There- 
fore show yourselves worthy of the privileges of freemen by 
listening without any disturbance to whatever the prisoner 
may say.” 

The officer did not really mean what he had said, but he 
could see that any attempt to silence the prisoner would meet 
with violent opposition. He waited a moment to see what 
effect his words would have, and the crowd maintaining 
silence, he motioned to Winston to proceed with his speech. 
The hero continued: 

“I did not intend to detain you long; but since you desire 
to hear from me, I will make a few brief remarks. The dis- 
tinguished officer has just told you that I have the privilege 
to address you upon whatever subject I may think proper. I 
do not choose to speak of myself, for the simple reason that, 
if I die, I die a martyr to the principles which the South is 
struggling to vindicate. My own character needs no defense. 
If I should be guilty of any crime, it is only zeal in that very 
cause which your ancestors died to establish in the first revo- 
lution. 

“ The South did not secede from the old Union until forced 
by the most stern and absolute necessity. It was with feel- 
ings of the deepest sorrow, we saw the confederation handed 
down by our forefathers, dismembered, and its government set 
at defiance; for we had no objection to the. Constitution, nor 
to the Union; but we conceived that the government had 
failed to accomplish the objects for which it was designed. 
We clung to them, however, as long as we could, consistently 

24 


370 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


with honor and dignity. But when we saw that the powers 
delegated to the General Government were about to be per- 
verted, we thought, in the language of the Declaration of 
Independence, ‘that whenever any form of government be- 
comes destructive of these ends, it is the right op the 

PEOPLE TO ALTER OR ABOLISH IT, AND TO INSTITUTE A NEW 
GOVERNMENT, LAYING ITS FOUNDATIONS ON SUCH PRINCIPLES, 
AND ORGANIZING ITS POWERS IN SUCH FORM, AS TO THEM 
SHALL SEEM MOST LIKELY TO EFFECT THEIR SAFETY AND 
HAPPINESS.’ Does not your present form of government 
derive its existence from the assertion and the successful 
vindication of this principle ? Will you now ignore the 
declarations of Thomas Jefferson, and the provisions of your 
Constitution, sanctioned by Washington, and indorsed by all 
parties for eighty years?” 

“Yes! yes!” cried a dozen voices from the crowd. 

“ Then,” continued the spy, in a vehement tone that thrilled 
like an electric shock, “strike out the last vestige of your 
freedom; dethrone the goddess of liberty you insult by your 
Pharisaical worship; call your false republic by its true name; 
and no longer insult the memory of the heroes of ’76 by the 
bare profession of principles which they sealed with their 
noble blood, but which you virtually discard by your hypo- 
critical pretensions and your political mockeries! Be con- 
sistent, and sustain the military despotism which has now 
usurped all the civil powers of your government, and swept 
away your last right as freemen.” 

“That’s right; give it to ’em,” exclaimed a bystander. . 

“Why, the right of self-government is as clearly recognized 
and as explicitly acknowledged in your Constitution as the 
right of trial by jury. It is the genius of your government; 
it permeates your whole political system ; it lies at the bottom 
of every political principle; and it constitutes the corner-stone, 
the very ground-w-^rk, of your ancient republic. The right 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


371 


of each state to regulate its own domestic affairs and institu- 
tions is clearly set forth in your Constitution in unequivocal 
language. This none will deny. Why, then, have you made 
war upon the South? For offering resistance to the encroach- 
ments upon her privileges, and the invasion of her sacred 
rights? We are guilty only of a re-enactment of the scenes 
of 1776. If high treason can be charged upon the South, it 
can also be imputed to George Washington; for the very 
same principles are involved. If you, then, succeed in con- 
quering the southern states, we will be in the same position 
our forefathers would have occupied had England established 
her authority over the colonies. In fact, we are more justifi- 
able in this present revolution than the colonists were; be- 
cause England only claimed the right to tax the colonies; but 
you go beyond that, and seek to control state affairs, to regu- 
late our internal concerns, to blot out the chief source of our 
wealth, and thus reduce us to dependence, vassalage, and 
beggary. You may deny it, but you have repeatedly declared 
that all the states in the Union must have the same domestic 
institutions; and you were not satisfied till you elected to the 
highest offices men whose avowed principles and intentions 
were to overturn our whole social system. Some of you have 
gone so far as to attempt to obliterate the distinctions and 
differences of races which God himself established, and ele- 
vate the African tribe to a position of social and political 
equality, when their true sphere is plainly marked out and 
limited by their natural characteristics. You may do it; you 
may temporarily pervert the laws of nature and of nature’s 
God; you may, in fifty years or less, disgrace your illustrious 
ancestry by a mongrel breed; but you can never induce the 
proud, chivalrous southron to forget the nobility of his de- 
scent by a participation in your unnatural degradation.” 

“Stop the rebel! stop the traitor!” drowned the spy’s voice 

“Go on — go on — go on!” came repeated, so loudly and 


372 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


vociferously from all parts of the congregation, that it was 
evident a majority was in favor of ‘‘free speech,” 

“If I am a traitor,” resumed the prisoner, as soon as he 
could he heard, “then have I never understood the nature of 
our form of government, and the principles that lie as its 
basis. If I am guilty of treason, it is honest treason, and 
proceeds from a desire to vindicate the spirit, the genius of 
true republicanism, rather than to establish a new and sepa- 
rate government. It is a mistaken idea that the South is 
simply fighting for a confederacy. It is for a principle — a 
principle, too, which we would much rather have seen en- 
grafted afresh upon the old Constitution, and then have re- 
mained in the Union. The South would have been satisfied. 
If you can construe this into treason, then, in the well-known 
language of Patrick Henry, ‘make the most of it.’ 

“Now I have told you for what we in the South are fight- 
ing. If we fail, you will rue the day that witnesses our down- 
fall. It amounts to something more than a possibility that 
you may crush this southern movement to perpetuate constitu- 
tional liberty. Your resources are abundant; all the neces- 
sary munitions and appliances of war are in your hands; you 
are a powerful nation — powerful in men and money — while 
the South labors under numerous disadvantages that are plain 
and patent to the world. If, therefore, you concentrate your 
full powers and energies; if you persevere to the end, and 
your whole people are determined to persist until you put us 
down, it may be done. But when you have accomplished 
your object, you will have engrafted upon your Constitution 
a new principle, which can not but prove destructive to repub- 
licanism and democracy. You will then present to the world 
the strange anomaly of a republic held together by military 
force. Why, what constitutes the first element of a republic? 
It is the consent of the governed. What kind of a republic 
will it be with one third of it held at the point of the bayonet? 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


373 


But this will be exactly the sort of government you will 
have if you conquer the South. It will be nothing but a 
monarchy or a despotism. Then all you gain, provided the 
war terminates in your favor, is the annihilation of your 
privileges as freemen, and the destruction of all your own 
liberties. The only way, therefore, to preserve your freedom, 
to check the downward tendency of your tottering republic, 
and to carry out the democracy of your forefathers, is to 
recognize the independence of the Confederacy, and thus 
end a bloody and useless war.” 

“Hang the traitor! hang the traitor! hang the traitor!” 
checked the prisoner’s further progress. The cry was kept 
up for several moments, loudly and angrily. The spy stood 
looking on with a calm, undisturbed countenance, and was 
watching, nevertheless, with some little feeling of interest, the 
indications of the storm his words were about to raise. At 
length there was a dead pause. The multitude was still in 
breathless expectation. 

Save the prisoner r 

It was uttered in a low voice from the outskirts of the con- 
gregation, and was barely heard at the gibbet. Then there 
was ominious silence for nearly a quarter of a minute. The 
suggestion was taking its effect. 

“To THE rescue!” at last exclaimed a tall, dark-looking 
man, in a short, sharp, quick, decisive, but stentorian tone, that 
burst upon the startled host like a thunder-clap. 

He was a violent copperhead, and was sufficiently acquainted 
with the passions of the mob to assume the responsibility of 
leadership. He was not disappointed in his expectations nor 
mistaken in his calculations; for scarcely had the exciting 
exclamation issued from his lips when the tumult began. 

“To the rescue! to the rescue! to the rescue! to the 
rescue!” 

The mob rapidly collected by the sound of the rallying cry 


374 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


The dark-looking man drew forth a pistol, and, waving it over 
his head, thus became the nucleus around which the elements 
of the new movement gathered and formed. The ladies, now 
thoroughly frightened at these unexpected proceedings, at- 
tempted to disperse and make their way through the crowd ; 
but the mob was too much excited to respect the privileges of 
the “fair sex.” The horses began to rear and plunge, till 
many were thrown among the rabble. The loud, piercing 
screams of the prostrate heroines were heard in various direc- 
tions. The surrounding trees, whose limbs were bending 
under loads of human curiosity, were rapidly vacated, as the 
thought occurred to these lofty spectators that straggling 
bullets might accidentally find their way to a mark higher 
than they were intended to reach. All who were not directly 
engaged in the belligerent proceedings seemed to be actuated 
by the principle, muve qui pent, and scampered away to a re- 
spectable and safer distance. A violent whirlwind was coming 
on, which* would soon be very hard to quell. 

At this stage of the proceedings the government officer 
again mounted the scafibld. He waved his hand to produce 
silence and secure attention, but his actions were unnoticed, 
or at least disregarded. The officer then drew forth from a 
side pocket a paper, and held it up in his hand. It caught 
the eye of the mob, and silence was presently restored, by 
the supposition of this document being a pardon. The officer 
waited until he could be distinctly heard, and then attempted 
to speak. 

“Read the pardon I read the pardon!” thundered the mob. 

“ Wait a moment,” said the officer, unfolding the document, 
“ till I make an explanation. I am sorry, fellow-citizens,” he 
began, “ to see this disturbance raised in opposition to law and 
order. In this free country mob-law is not the proper process 
by which to correct abuses or redress grievances. As true 
and loyal citizens of a great, glorious, prosperous country, you 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


375 


should seek to execute the laws of this country, which have 
been made for your good and your safety, rather than to 
trammel and retard the progress of justice by unbridling 
passion and prejudice. Your security in society depends upon 
a faithful adherence even to the very letter of the law. If 
the penalties adjudged proper by an impartial court can not 
be administered, you will soon bring about universal anarchy, 
and will have no tribunal to which you can appeal.” 

“Read the pardon! read the pardon! read the pardon!” 

“Let me beseech you, fellow-citizens,” resumed the officer, 
“not to resist the law. You will only occasion the useless 
effusion of blood; because there are more men in favor of law 
and order than there are opposed to it. You ought by this 
time to be convinced of the folly of raising the weak arm of 
rebellion against the Government of the United States. Do 
you not see that she is raising her millions of men for the 
purpose of restoring order in the South? How long will it 
take, then, to quell a mob like this?” » 

“Read the pardon or get down!” thundered the dark man. 

“ Fellow-citizens, I do not wish to deceive you. The pris- 
oner has been found guilty of a crime, the penalty of which 
is death. The paper which I hold in my hand contains the 
proceedings and findings of the court in the case of Henry 
S. Winston; the sentence is death, and must be executed!” 

“G — d d — n the court! Rescue the prisoner!” 

Hundreds of pistols were drawn and cocked, and a general 
rush was made toward' the gallows, amid cries, exclamations, 
oaths, and all the other customary sounds, sights, and charac- 
teristics of a wild, frantic mob. The regular soldiers consti- 
tuting the square immediately around the scaffold “fixed 
bayonets,” and stood ready to receive the charge. But the 
mob was too powerful; they came like an avalanche; the 
guard was disarmed in a moment, and the scaffold was sur- 
rounded. 


376 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“ Hurra for the Confederacy! Three cheers for Jeff Davis!” 
bawled the tall, dark man. 

He waved his hat aloft, and a wild shout rent the air in 
honor of treason under the very nose of Abraham Lincoln. 

“Damnable traitors!” thundered forth Mr. Lincoln (for he 
it was who had been talking), pointing up the road which 
led to the city, “damnable traitors! you will soon repent 
your folly, and pay dearly for your triumph.” 

It was a whole division' of Federal infantry which was 
stationed in Washington. As soon as Winston had commenced 
speaking, Mr. Lincoln saw the unmistakable evidences and 
indications of a lawless spirit, and dispatched a courier with an 
order to Ihe troops “to turn out.” On they came, with glis- 
tening arms, at a douhle-quich^^^ and halted about one hun- 
dred yards from the scene of action. Here they instantly 
formed into line of battle, and then advanced slowly toward 
the gallows. 

“Now,”* exclaimed President Lincoln to the mob, whose 
wild ardor was beginning to abate and evaporate, “ I give you 
five minutes to disperse. If, at the lapse of that time, this 
spot is not cleared of your presence, I will have every one of 
you shot!” 

He drew out his watch to mark the time. The threat had 
the desired effect. The mob, now thoroughly cooled, slowly 
retired, at first one by one, but as the time began to draw to 
a close they went with a rush, as if afraid to be found leaving 
last. At the end of three minutes all were gone. The tall, 
dark man was among the first to leave. 

The military again took peaceable possession, and prepa- 
rations soon recommenced for the execution. The spy was 
not allowed to finish his speech. A hasty prayer was offered 
up by a clergyman in attendance, and then the rope was 
adjusted about his neck. In another moment the fatal trigger 
was tapped, and the Confederate spy was dangling in the air. 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


377 


He was allowed to hang twenty minutes, and was then pro- 
nounced dead by Dr. Vernon and another surgeon. The 
body was taken to a grave at some distance from the gal- 
lows, and buried with little ceremony, but with extraordinary 
rapidity. Walter Hallam, true to his promise, saw the last 
clod thrown on his enemy’s grave. 

That same evening Emily Burrell, whose feelings we can 
not attempt to describe, left Washington, in company with her 
brother, for her home in Kentucky. She could not remain 
another hour near the fatal spot upon which her last hope had 
been forever blighted. Her only object now was to return 
to her native state, and there wait, in peace, with Christian 
resignation, till the summons of death should come and end 
her troubles. But with truth it has been said : 

Death comes not to those who mourn.*’ 


378 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

*‘Joy never feasts so high 
As when the first course is of misery.” 

Several weeks had now passed away. Emily Burrell was 
again amid the scenes of her Kentucky home. Three years 
before she had been contented and happy; but now her 
whole manner of life was changed. Formerly she had wan- 
dered along the banks of the clear, winding river, and in- 
dulged in thoughts that contributed to the cultivation of her 
intellect. She rarely thought of Grod, who gave it. Again 
she stood by the magnificent stream; but she no longer held 
in her hand the volume upon whose pages she had once con- 
centrated the powers of a solid mind in profound abstraction. 
She seated herself upon the green moss growing at the foot 
of a wide-spreading beech, opened her book, and read : 

“Since, then, it appears that annihilation forms no part of 
the plan of the Creator in the material world, is it reasonable 
to suppose that a system of annihilation is in incessant opera- 
tion in the world of mind; that God is every day creating 
thousands of minds, indued with the most capacious powers, 
and at the same time reducing to eternal destruction thou- 
sands of those which he had formerly created? Shall the 
material universe 'exist amidst all its variety of changes, and 
shall that noble creature, for whose sake the universe wa» 
created^ be cut off forever in the infancy of its being, and 
doomed to eternal forgetfulness? Is it consistent with the 
common dictates of reason to admit that matter shall have a 
longer duration than mind^ which gives motion and beauty to 
every material scene? Shall the noble structure of St. Paul 


THE CONFEDEKATE SPY. 


379 


and St. Peter, survive the ravages of time, and display their 
beautiful proportions to successive generations, while Wren 
and Angelo, the architects that planned them, are reduced to 
the condition of the clods of the valley? Shall the ‘Novum 
Organum’ of Bacon^ and the ‘Optics’ and ‘Principia’ of 
Newton^ descend to future ages, to unfold their sublime con- 
ceptions, while the illustrious minds which gave birth to these 
productions are enveloped in the darkness of eternal night? 
There appears a palpable absurdity and inconsistency in ad- 
mitting such conclusions. We might almost as soon believe 
that the universe would continue in its present harmony and 
order were its Creator to cease to exist.” 

God works wonders and mysteries in’ his own way. It 
was necessary that Emily should undergo tribulations ; other- 
wise she might never have read the “philosophy of a future 
state,” and never have bowed to the God that gave her life. 
Troubles directed her thoughts to the only true source of 
consolation. She had gone through a fiery sea of trial, but 
had come out purified, redeemed. 

Emily finished the chapter from which the foregoing ex- 
tract has been taken ; then, with a silent prayer, rose from her 
seat and returned to the house. A visitor had come. It 
was Colonel Ellsworth. Emily welcomed him with a sad, 
faint smile, that showed plainly the connection of his presence 
with sorrowful associations. With propriety the truthful lan- 
guage of Shakespeare could be applied; 

“Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news 
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue 
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, 

Remember’d knelling a departed friend.” 

They sat in the parlor by a window that opened upon a 
scene lovely to behold. When they had conversed for an 
hour or more. Colonel Ellsworth began to explain the object 


380 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


of his visit, which did more credit to his heart than to hifl 
sense of propriety. 

“ I have come far, Miss Emily,” he said, after some prefa- 
tory and apologetic remarks, “for the pleasure of this inter- 
view. It will hardly be necessary to say that I have come 
upon a mission which you will regard as rather selfish in its 
nature. I have come to make one more appeal to your heart 
in favor of myself In plain language, I have come, after 
being twice discarded, to ask your fore.” 

“And what has induced you. Colonel Ellsworth, to sup- 
pose I would change my mind? I thought I was suffi- 
ciently explicit upon this subject to prevent a second recur- 
rence to it.” 

“I will be candid, Miss Emily. I thought, from your 
peculiar situation, you might be persuaded to alter your deter- 
mination, and intrust your happiness to another’s keeping.” 

“What is so ‘peculiar’ in my situation?” 

The officer looked troubled and perplexed by the keen, 
searching gaze fixed upon his face. 

“I know,” he at length replied, “that you are a lover of 
candor and plain dealing. I will speak plainly, though I feel 
a delicacy in saying any thing which may jar upon your feel- 
ings. Will you forgive me, then, if I allude to a distressing 
occurrence, which places you in a different position from that 
you occupied a few weeks ago? There is no one now who 
has a better right to claim your affection than he who now 
addresses you.” 

“This is cruel. Colonel Ellsworth, cruel; it is unkind, 
ungenerous.” 

“Do not misunderstand my motives. Miss Emily, nor mis- 
construe my language. I would not willingly give you pain. 
I wish you could look into this heart and see what it suffers; 
for you then would not accuse me of cruelty. I alluded to 
this painful occurrence only to remind you of the life of 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


381 


solitary misery you must lead if you persist in your determi- 
nation to shut yourself out from the world. All is for the 
best, Miss Emily. No one believes stronger in the special 
providence of God than I do. You have a destiny to fulfill; 
and this sad event might have been fore-ordained, and doubt- 
less was, to open your eyes to some great truth, which you 
might otherwise never have discovered.” 

“I believe you, Colonel Ellsworth, I believe you. It has 
convinced me of the helplessness of human nature; it has 
opened my eyes to the fact that we live not for the pleasures 
of life; it has impressed upon my mind the truth that we 
are placed here to make preparations for eternity. This is 
now my only aim and object; and, with God’s help, I shall so 
live in the future as to meet that lover to whom you have re- 
ferred, and in whose gory grave my affections are buried, in 
that land where are no sickness and sorrow.” 

“I am a firm believer in the Christian religion. Miss Emily;, 
not a mere intellectual believer in the general principles of 
Christianity, but I endeavor to practice the precepts of the 
Bible, and live up to its commandments. But I can not take 
the view of its requirements that you do. I am not so much 
of a Homan Catholic as you seem to be. I do not think God 
requires his creatures to shut themselves up in total seclusion, 
in priestly cells, in lonesome convents. The general tenor of 
Scripture is opposed to such a course. Each mortal has a 
mission to accomplish ; and no one is at liberty, nor has the 
right, to withhold from society talent that might contribute to 
its intellectual, moral, and religious advancement. But it is 
not my profession to deliver lectures. I presume you have as 
correct ideas in regard to your religious duties as I have. I 
did not come here for such a purpose; and now, returning to 
the original subject, I have given up all for you — home, 
friends, country, reputation, all, to secure your love; I have 
sacrificed all for you.” 


382 


THE CONFEDEKATE SPY. 


“Colonel Ellsworth, what do you mean? Is it possible 
you have abandoned your political principles?” 

“Yes, Miss Emily, yes; I have deserted my cause to es- 
pouse that to which you cling. Will you look upon the 
sacrifice favorably, or will you send me away to bleed and 
die, unpitied, unwept, in a foreign state?” 

“Not unpitied. Colonel Ellsworth, not unpitied. I am 
deeply moved by your sufierings. But, while at. the same 
time I pity your distress, I can not approve the motive that 
induced your espousal of southern principles. Excuse me, 
but it seems to be actuated by a hope of individual gain, 
rather than an honest, sincere desire to serve a cause in which 
the heart, soul, and mind are all engaged, or should be.” 

“You are too hard upon me. Miss Emily. I confess that 
mine is not first-class patriotism. But what does it matter 
about motives, provided I am true to the interests of the 
South. However, I am not quite so selfish as you have said; 
for my opinions have undergone a change since we talked 
upon this subject several weeks ago. I have, furthermore, to 
confess that I never fully examined the grounds upon which 
the Confederacy set up its claims to a separate independence. 
[ have been taught from my childhood to love the Union, and 
to look upon any attempt to rend its ties as traitorous. When 
the war commenced, I could not divest myself of sentiments 
fostered and cherished in the days of my youth. You are 
only the instrumentality which led to a careful examination of 
the principles I have been combating. Beceutly I have been 
studying the subject; I find I was wrong, and I am now will- 
ing to atone for my error; and, if it become necessary, to 
even sacrifice my life in defense of southern rights. I am 
again fit for field duty, and am now on my way to the south- 
ern army. I came by to see if I could not induce you to 
reconcile me to my change of sentiment by the bestowal of at 
least a small portion of your love, and thus forever preclude 


THE CONEEDEKATE SPY. 


383 


• the possibility of my regretting the folly of my political re- 
pentance.” 

“You ask an utter impossibility,” replied Emily. “I can 
not change the sympathies and affections of my heart, however 
much I might be disposed to encourage you. Wherever you 
may go, you will bear with you my best wishes for your 
welfare.” 

“Is this all you can promise? Is there no bright hope to 
which I can cling in the hours of gloom and despondency? 
Let me have some hope to buoy me up amid the hardships of 
camp-life; let me have some reward in prospect to crown 
my sacrifice when peace returns. Promise me your hand. I 
will then have something to live for, and I can more cheer- 
fully undergo the privations of a soldier’s life. I fear not for 
the result afterward ; I can make you love me by my entire 
devotion to your wishes. I will love you with so much ardor, 
with so much madness, that you can not find it in your heart 
not to reciprocate, to some extent, my deep and lasting 
affection.” 

Emily maintained a thoughtful silence, and the officer, 
taking this as a favorable indication, continued: 

“ Without such a promise, I shall enlist anyhow in the ser- 
vice of the Confederate States, but I will be the most wretched 
soldier in the army. With such a promise to cheer me on in 
the path of duty, I could face the scorn and reproaches of a 
world. Will you, can you, then, still persist in your deter- 
mination to live and die in solitary grief, when you might 
secure your own happiness and seal that of another? The 
chances are that I will fall upon the batfle-field; and the 
probability is you will never be called upon to redeem your 
promise. Then, while I do live, let me enjoy the enrapturing 
thought that you will be my bride when peace is restored.” 

“ I am surprised, Colonel Ellsworth, at your undisguised 
preference for such a sorrowful wretch as I am. What do 


384 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


you want with a creature whose hopes of earthly happiness 
have all faded away, and whose affections lie entombed in a 
bloody grave? You know that I once loved, and I have told 
you that I can never love again. All that you could do would 
never arouse a single emotion of love in this crushed heart of 
mine. I respect you — I admire your qualities of mind and 
heart — but this is all I can do. I freely give you my esteem 
and my friendship, but I am incapable of any other sentiment. 
But, nevertheless, I can be as self-denying as you have been; 
and if it will assist you or encourage you while battling for 
southern independence, I will make the sacrifice. If, then, at 
the termination of the war, I am alive^ and my feelings are 
unchanged, and you still desire the unworthy boon, I will 
give you my hand; but mark it. Colonel, not my hearty . . . 

The next day after the departure of Colonel Ellsworth 
Emily was sitting in her bower; her guitar lay near by. 
After musing a short time, she took the instrument in her 
hand, and sang, in a mournful voice, that wild compositiouj 
“Thekla at her Lover’s -Grave,” which Emily had set to 
music. When she had finished the song, she was consider- 
ably surprised to see Walter Hallam standing in the entrance. 
She did not speak. 

“My cousin does not welcome me as she did four years 
ago,” said Hallam, not moving from his position. 

“I am sorry,” replied Emily, slowly and coldly, “that you 
have placed yourself in a situation which enables you to 
arrive at the knowledge of such a fact.” 

“ In other words, you are displeased with my presence. I 
did not expect to be told so in plain language by a relative, 
and by one whose destiny it probably is to call me by a more 
endearing name than that of cousin.” 

Emily was too well acquainted with Hallam to ask any 
explanation of his strange words; neither did she care to hear 
more. She was on the point of rising to leave the spot, when 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 885 

Hallaca, < 2 fivining her intentions, placed his arms across the 
deor, to prevent her departure. 

“You IvUTe not here,” said he, “until you have heard me, 
and have taken choice between two evils.” 

“I will call for help,” replied Emily, rising to her feet, and 
frightened by his ambiguous threats. 

“You may call, but there will be none to answer.” 

“Where is brother James?” cried Emily, in a wild voice. 

“If you make the attempt to call for brother James, he 
will be as powerless as you are; but you need not be unneces- 
sarily frightened,” he said, noticing her expression of horror. 
“No harm has happened to, him, and it depends upon you 
whether any will or not.” 

“ For the sake of a poor wretched girl, do not torment me 
thus; I can not endure much now. If you are determined to 
detain me by force, tell me at once your meaning.” 

“You will hear it soon enough. I have no desire to tan- 
talize you, though ; I will, therefore, keep you in suspense no 
longer. I came here, then, to ask -you, gentlemanly and de- 
cently to be my wifey 

Emily made no response. She was surprised, but waited 
to hear more concerning this extraordinary proposition. Hal- 
1am continued: 

“You do not seem to like the manner in which I woo. 
May be I am not as ardent as some of your lovers used to be. 
But I should suppose by this time you would begin to be 
displeased with that kind of courtship, since it has terminated 
so unfortunately. I will go at it in a business-like style. I 
presume you can have no objection to my suit now? All ob- 
stacles are removed. He — you know who I mean — will never 
turn up again in an unexpected place. He died this time, 
without a doubt; I saw the last clod thrown upon the rebel’s 
grave; I saw him stand upon the scaffold — I saw the trigger 
tapped — and I saw him drop.” 

25 


386 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“0 God, have mercy on me!” cried the wretched girl, 
trembling from head to foot. “Walter,” she continued, turn- 
ing to him with a pitiable look, “if you are human, let me go. 
I am nothing but a miserable woman, standing, too, upon the 
brink of the tomb. I will not trouble any one long with my 
existence. For the sake, then, of your honor and manhood, 
do not trample a dying woman under your feet.” 

“You are not near dead, Emily. But we will not argue 
that question; and, as I have not much time to tarry, T will 
make my proposal like a hasty lover, and then hear your 
answer. I ask you again if you will be my wife?” 

“I would die first!” she replied, changing her manner, 
while her eyes were flashing with indignation. 

“Very well, then; there are only two alternatives: you 
must become my wife or be a beggar — may be worse than 
that. You are at liberty to take your choice. I will add 
that, in case the first desirable event should take place, in five 
minutes after the ceremony is performed I will never see you 
again. I will swear to this, for your consolation. We will 
even put it in the marriage contract, if you wish. I want 
you to. be only a nominal wife.” 

“For what reason do you desire this?” asked Emily, 
astonished at such a strange proposition. 

“If you can not discover a reason, I will tell you. I do 
not care about keeping it a secret now. You are in my 
power anyhow; and I would as soon as not you should un- 
derstand the whole subject from beginning to end. By your 
father’s will, it is provided that in case you die without heirs 
your whole property shall descend to your husband. Is not 
that a sufficient reason?” 

“Suppose I do not consent to such an arrangement?” 

“I think it quite probable you will consent to it when you 
know all. I am making you a reasonable and a kind offer; 
I will not interfere with you or your property until your 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


887 


decease, which, you say, will not be long. You can enjoy all 
the privileges you now have; and may even choose another 
lover if you want to. The only difference there will be in 
this slight change, you will be Mrs. Hallam instead of Miss 
Burrell. If you refuse, your property may be confiscated, 
and something worse than that may happen.” 

“Explain yourself more fully,” said Emily, in blank aston- 
ishment. 

“I will,” replied Hallam, drawing forth a paper from his 
pocket; “for I want you to understand the matter clearly. 
By this document, I am authorized to arrest you and your 
brother, and carry you to Washington to be dealt with.” 

“For what?” asked Emily, now beginning to comprehend 
the plot. 

“For high treason — for disloyalty — for assisting a rebel spy 
in an attempt to escape from a fate he justly deserved.” 

“Brother James had nothing to do with that transaction; I 
alone am guilty of that crime.” 

“There is proof that he did. He is implicated anyhow; 
and it may happen that, if he is put on trial, the evidence 
against him will be much stronger than you anticipate. The 
probability is that he will leave the world in much the same 
manner Winston did.” 

“You are the instigator of this unjust proceeding, Walter 
Hallam.” 

“That is neither here nor there,” replied Hallam, “and is 
not the question. I have laid the facts in the ease before 
you. You can govern yourself accordingly. I would re- 
spectfully suggest that the first-mentioned alternative is the 
most efficient mode of putting an end to this ugly matter. 
I assure you, that if you marry me, the proceeding shall be 
stopped at once, and you will remain just as you are till the 
day of your death, with the exception of the change in your 


name. 


388 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Poor Emily thought he was the coolest, most unmitigated 
villain she had ever read of even in the annals of fiction. 

“Does brother James know aught of this?” she at length 
asked. 

“He does not. I thought it unnecessary to inform him 
until your decision should be obtained. He need not know 
any thing about it, if you will marry .me quietly. In fact, I 
would rather not tell him ; for it is a slightly unpleasant piece 
of business. But let me hear your decision. My time is 
short.” 

“As for myself,” replied Emily, “I would let you do your 
worst. You could not deprive me of many days, even if you 
should put me to death; but, to save my brother, I will make 
another proposition, which may suit you as well. My fortune 
seems to be your only object. If, then, you will put a stop to 
this proceeding, I will give you my property at my death, 
which will not be long off.” 

“I am too shrewd for that, Emily: ‘a bird in the hand 
is worth two in the bush.’ I will not allow you to cheat 
me in that style. What assurance have I that I would 
ever get your property? This may be another one of your 
schemes to fool me — another display of your excellent diplo- 
macy. Mine is the best plan.” 

“ I will bequeath every cent of it to you, and with it my 
curse. I would swear to this by all my hopes of heaven.” 

“ I tell you this will not do ; you need not talk about it. I 
like your father’s will- much better than any you could make. 
By his I will come into undisputed possession of the property. 
Yours might be too easily broken; I might have a long and 
troublesome law-suit about it; besides, you might be prevented 
by some unforeseen contingency from .making it.” 

“I will make it now — to-day.” 

“I will not hear to it,” said Hallam, angrily. “You tried 
to foil me once, and you might do it again. I have no 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


389 


confidence whatever in your promises. I give you only the 
two alternatives. I will get half your property anyhow. 
So choose.” 

“Then,” said Emily, “do as you please. I would not, if I 
could, degrade myself by such an unholy alliance, and thus 
become a partner to your villainy. You can do as you like; 
I think it an impossibility that such wickedness can prosper. 
You will be brought to justice some time; if not in this 
world, you will be summoned to answer for it before that 
dread tribunal from which no ofiender escapes.” 

“It would be best, Emily, to reconsider your decision. 
I am now compelled to carry out my plans. The matter 
stands thus; you must marry me, or else see your brother 
hanged.” 

“I do not believe you. Brother has done nothing to 
arouse even a suspicion of his loyalty. He can prove his 
innocence. If he can not — if you have by bribery. and false- 
hood destroyed his character, and are determined to bring him 
to the untimely end you name — I believe God will arrest the 
iniquitous proceeding, and send upon you a dreadful retri- 
bution adequate to your crimes. Sin brings its own reward, 
even in this life, and you will not escape unscathed the ven- 
geance of offended heaven.” 

“You can not frighten me from my purposes by such 
ecclesiastical blarney. I can not now retreat. That would 
certainly be worse than to proceed. I ask you again to re- 
flect upon the step you are about to take. It is a matter 
of vital importance to you. You have only to choose between 
a nominal marriage and beggary^ if not death.” 

“Persuasion is in vain,” said Emily. “I would prefer ten 
thousand deaths to a marriage with such an unnatural ingrate. 
Brother’s influence has raised you from obspurity to what 
little celebrity you have obtained. If this last act of vil- 
lainy is a sample of your gratitude, go on; but you will be 


390 


IKE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


punished, Walter, you will be punished, as much as you may 
mock the God that gives you life.” 

“Have you decided, Emily, irrevocably?” 

“I have told you so more than once.” 

“Then I call you to witness that you are responsible for 
all the consequences that may follow. In the name of the 
United States, I arrest you for disloyalty.” 

He stepped back into the avenue, and motioned with his 
hand. In a few moments a dozen Federal soldiers stood by 
his side. Hallam re-entered the bower. 

“Come, Emily; I have no time to tarry. We must be off.” 

“You will let me make some arrangements, will you not?” 

“Yes, certainly; we will go to the house for your brother; 
he will accompany you as a fellow-prisoner. Come.” 

Emily arose and . followed him to the house. Walter, 
knowing the irascible nature of Colonel Burrell, stationed his 
soldiers in the hall. He then told Emily to see her brother, 
and give him such information as she thought proper, or send 
him into the hall. She went to the Colonel’s room and 
related briefly what had taken place, not concealing Walter’s 
proposal, and then she commenced making preparations to 
return to Washington. Colonel Burrell immediately went 
into the hall, his eyes flashing like those of an enraged tiger. 

“Hallam, what in the h — 11 means this proceeding?” said 
the Colonel, advancing close to Walter, who shrank back a 
step or two by the side of the Yankee soldiers. 

“ It means that you are a prisoner, by the proper authority. 
You can see it if you wish.” 

The Colonel looked at him for a full minute with an expres- 
sion of wild ferocity. He appeared to be at a loss for words 
to express his boiling anger. 

“I always thou^t,” he at length hissed through his 
clenched teeth, “that you were a d — d villain. Now I know 
it. You are at the bottom of this proceeding. You 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


391 


want Emily to marry you, do you? Why, G — d d — n your 

brazen impudence, I would see her dead first! Yes, by , 

I would see her sunk to bottomless h — 11 first!” he bawled in 
a hoarse voice, and then paused for a moment, overcome by 
the intensity of his fearful wrath. 

“It is useless, sir,” said Hallam, taking advantage of the tem- 
porary cessation of maledictions, “to resist lawful authority. 
You are called upon by the Government of the United States 
to answer certain charges alleged against you. I suggest that 
your proper course would be to submit quietly.” 

“Answer charges! What sort of charges, you d — d scoun- 
drel? They are nothing but your infernal lies. But you 
shall repent this; by the living G — d, you shall repent it!” 

“Stop your d — d nonsense. Colonel Burrell,'” interrupted 
Hallam; “I have heard enough of it. You are a prisoner, 
and if you have not sense enough to see the propriety of 
yielding submissively, then I will use the means necessary to 
enforce silence and obedience to the orders of the government. 
I will give you one hour to make preparations for your depar- 
ture. Your abuse of me does not mend the matter, and will 
not prevent your arrest. You must go. If you behave your- 
self with becoming dignity, you shall be treated with the 
respect due to your rank. If you do not, I must deal with 
you as a common criminal !” 

Colonel Burrell was a sensible man, and he saw that Hallam 
was right. He therefore calmed the tumult of his revengeful 
feelings as well as he could, and requested to be allowed to 
remain until next day, in order to have a carriage repaired to 
convey his sister to the depot, which was some distance off. 
Walter agreed, and waited till the morning dawned, when the 
whole party set out for the Federal capital. The route lay 
up the river bottom. Hallam with his guard followed the 
carriage, in which were seated Colonel Burrell and his sister. 
Emily appeared to look upon the proceeding with indifference, 


392 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


and gazed upon the objects without as calmly as if she were 
paying a visit, and would soon return. The trials through 
which she had passed seemed to have trauquilized her feelings, 
and she awaited this new ordeal with Christian patience, well- 
assured that whatever might be the result to herself and her 
brother, justice would finally triumph over fraud, treachery, 
and villainy. But Colonel Burrell did not view the matter 
with such feelings of resignation. Black anger- clouded his 
frowning brow, and he meditated fearful revenge upon Walter 
Hallam. 

“I will make the villain repent,” said the Colonel, talking 
more to himself than to Emily. “I will yet make the d — d 
whelp curse the day he was born ! Who would have thought 
he could be such a devil?” 

“I am sorry to hear you talk so, brother. You do not 
at all improve your condition by such unnecessary profanity. 
You do yourself more harm than any body else.” 

“I can not be like you, Emily; I wish I could. But 

every time I think of the base ingratitude of that d — d 

I do n’t know what to call him, it turns my breast into a 
miniature hell.” 

Emily did not say any thing more. She thought it useless 
to talk to her brother in his present state of feeling. So the 
carriage rolled on, and the incumbents kept silent. They 
were now about ten miles from Colonel Burrell’s residence. 
Just as the carriage had made a sudden turn in the road, 
Hallam was considerably surprised to see several Confederate 
soldiers, only about a hundred yards ahead. They were on 
horseback, and he supposed them to be guerrillas. He 
quickly spurred in front of the carriage, followed by the 
larger portion of his guard. 

“Who are you?” demanded Hallam. 

“The advanced guard of a Confederate brigade,” was the 
deliberate reply. “ Who are you f" 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


393 


Hallam was at a loss for an answer. He thought of taking 
to flight. But one of the Confederates saw how the matter 
stood. 

“ I summons you all to surrender,” said the soldier. “ Our 
command will be here in ten minutes, and you can not 
escape.” 

“I am not to be fooled in this way,” replied Hallam. 
“I will wait ten minutes, and if it be not as you say, 
then you must surrender. I will not yield to four or five 
guerrillas.” 

“Very well,” replied the Confederate, “we will give you 
ten minutes; but if you attempt to escape, we will fire on 
you.” 

They did not wait long. A cavalry brigadier-general with 
his escort rode up. Walter Hallam looked at the ofi&cer with 
indescribable terror depicted on his countenance. He was 
trembling from head to foot. The officer returned the look 
in silence. 

“In the name of Grod, who are you?” cried Hallam, ter- 
rified beyond all control. “Are you living or dead?” The 
General made no reply. “For God’s sake, speak! Am I 
talking to a ghost?” 

“Whom have you in that carriage?” asked the officer, with- 
out replying, and riding up to the door of the vehicle, which 
was about thirty yards distant. 

Emily’s eyes met those of the General; she started in 
amazement; then, with a slight scream, fell fainting upon the 
seat. Colonel Burrell was so much astonished and alarmed at 
this unexpected convulsion of his sister that he did not at 
first notice the cause of her fright. The General hastily dis- 
mounted and hastened to the carriage door. Colonel Burrell 
now looked into his face. 

“My God! who is this?” exclaimed the Colonel, in fear 
and amazement as great as Hallam’s. 


894 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


But the General appeared too much interested in the young 
lady to answer questions. He motioned to one of his escort 
for a canteen, and then sprinkled water in Emily’s face. 
Presently she rose to a sitting posture. 

“Henry is it you, or am I dreaming? Are you a ghost? 
Tell me quick, for pity’s sake.” 

“It is I, my dear Emily, living and in good health. You 
may be certain I am no ghost.” 

Colonel Burrell extended his hand, and warmly grasped 
that of General Henry Winston. 

“I was certain you were a ghost, because I was told you 
were buried. I welcome you back from the grave. But 
come into the carriage; I will leave you and Emily to talk 
it all over.” 

Colonel Burrell very soon vacated his seat in the carriage, 
and Henry Winston seated himself by Emily’s side. We can 
not describe the meeting between the lovers, so we will leave 
them and follow Colonel Burrell. He moved to where Walter 
Hallam was still sitting upon his horse. 

“Now, Hallam,” said Colonel Burrell, “I challenge you to 
fight me on the spot. I must have your life, or you must 
have mine. Nothing but blood will wipe out the insult you 
have offered me. Dismount, and let us get through with it.” 

“I beg to remind you,” replied Hallam, “who and what we 
are. We are both prisoners, and will hardly be allowed the 
liberty you ask. Otherwise I would accommodate you.” 

“ I can never be satisfied till I fight you,” replied Colonel 
Burrell. “You have acted the d — d rascal, and proved your- 
self a scoundrel of the deepest dye. You must now fight me, 
or add cowardice to your other vices.” 

“No man has ever had grounds to call me a coward yet, 
and I’ll be d — d if you shall do it. If these Confederate 
gentlemen will allow us the privilege, I will fight you with 
pistols, at the distance of ten paces.” 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


395 


The matter was briefly explained to the Confederates, who 
very readily agreed to witness a duel between two Yankees. 
In fact, it was great sport to them; and a couple quickly vol- 
unteered their services to act as seconds to the belligerents. 
The ground was very soon measured off. 

“Gentlemen,” said one of the seconds, unbuckling his belt, 
and producing two navy pistols, “here is a pair of barkers 
that never fail. They are sure to fire, and rarely miss the 
mark. I ’ve killed many a him gentleman like you two with 
these same black dogs. They are so used to this kind of 
work, I can hardly keep ’em quiet whenever they git thar 
peepers on a Yankee. They have never missed a him mark ; 
and I will tell you, for your mutual consolation, that if you 
will only hold steady hands, you will both have the pleasure 
of seeing each other fall. All the difference between ’em is 
in name — one is called Jeff Davis and the other Bob Lee. 
Any objections to ’em?” 

“None,” replied both duelists. 

“Then take your positions,” continued the soldier, giving 
each a pistol. “ I suggest that, since one of the parties goes 
on a crutch, we count a little different from the old style, to 
give both a fair chance. I will count three, and while I am 
doing this you are to aim, but you are not to fire till I ’ve 
counted four or five.” 

“You are for having us both killed,” said Hallam. 

“Why, d — n it,” replied the Confederate, “what do you 
fight for but to kill? If you are not going to kill or be 
killed, you may as well throw down the pistols and take 
%quirt-guns. I’m disinterested — perfectly so; I only want to 
see fair play. But, to be certain that justice will be done, 
I would rather see both of you killed. The proposition I 
make is as fair for the goose as for the gander. Will you 
agree to it?” 

“I will,” answered Colonel Burrell. 


896 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


“So will I,” said Hallam, who could not now back down. 

“Then be ready,” said the Confederate, stepping back a 
few paces to the front of the combatants. “One — two — 
three — four — five!” 

Between “two” and “three” Walter fired. He had deter- 
mined to violate the agreement, and kill his antagonist before 
“three” could be pronounced, and thus run little risk. But 
his haste and treachery proved dear ; for the Confederate kept 
on counting, and when he said “four” Colonel Burrell de- 
liberately fired. The ball passed through Hallam’s heart. 
Without a groan, he fell back to the earth a corpse. The 
first report attracted the attention of Henry and Emily; they 
both looked forth in time to see Colonel Burrell fire and 
Walter fall. The General sprang from the carriage and 
rushed to the spot. 

“What means this?” he asked. 

“All fair, General, all fair,” replied the second. “Two of 
these hlv£ gentlemen desired, it seems, to settle an old diffi- 
culty, and we had the kindness to accommodate ’em. That 
one lying there was no doubt a scamp, and old Bob Lee has 
punished him very severely for his rascality.” 

General Winston looked upon his fallen enemy. He could 
not but think the punishment was just, and said not a word. 

“Now, General Winston,” said Colonel Burrell, offering his 
hand, “I am done with the Federal Government. I have 
been unjustly treated by the officials at Washington. They 
seem to have suspected my loyalty. Henceforth they shall 
have no room for suspicion, because I shall take a bold stand 
in favor of the South. If you will receive me into your 
command, I will endeavor to make amends for the damage I 
may have done.” 

“I accept the offer of your services with pleasure. Colonel 
Burrell; and may the God of justice enable us to achieve the 
independence of our down-trodden country; and may you live 


THE CONEEDERATB SPY. 397 

to see the Southern Confederacy take her true position among 
the proud nationalities of the earth.” 

Emily heard it all. With streaming eyes she bent upon 
her knees, and poured out to just heaven the gratitude of 
a thankful heart. When General Winston returned to the 
carriage he was touched at the sight. She rose. 

“I thank God, my dear Emily, you have learned to pray. 
Have you not found it, in all your trials, a source of conso- 
lation far above any thing furnished by this earth?” 

“I cried unto the Lord with my voice, and he heard me out 
of his holy hill,” was all the reply she made. 


398 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


‘‘All’s well that ends well.” 

Reader, we must now omit the events of several gloomy 
months. The memorable war of 1861 is ended. The dark 
days of bloodshed and suffering have passed away, and we 
can now look forth upon the wide-spread havoc occasioned 
by the political storm which has swept over the face of the 
“sunny South.” Many sad monuments of its fury meet the 
eye upon every hill-top and in every valley; around nearly 
every fireside there is a vacant chair ; from nearly every 
household some loved one has disappeared, and gone down 
to the “republic of dust and ashes,” a martyr to an unsuc- 
cessful but a high and holy cause. Many, many a bitter tear 
will be shed to the memory of these dead heroes, when all 
physical traces of the disastrous war have disappeared. They 
fought with more than Spartan courage; they endured hard- 
ships with more than Roman firmness; they fell with more 
than the professed patriotism of Brutus; but all in vain ! 
The Confederate flag, that once proud emblem of a struggling 
nationality, droops — tattered, torn, stained with blood — over 
a hundred thousand patriot graves^ that lie scattered from the 
confines of the “Old North State” to the wild regions of 
Texas. They are to be seen on the plains of Manassas — 
upon Tennessee’s soil — around Atlanta — in the marshes of 
Florida — upon the high hills of Vicksburg — along the banks 
of the “Father of Waters” — throughout every state of the 
lamented but ’‘^so-called" Confederacy. 

“Their loveliest mother earth 
Enshrines the fallen brave; 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


399 


In her sweet lap who gave them birth 
They find a tranquil grave.” 

And there let them sleep till the last trump shall sound, 
when they shall come forth from the bloody tomb and lay 
down their honors at the foot of the great Throne. The 
South may be stripped of her wealth, she may be trampled 
upon and insulted, but she can not be robbed of her noble 
dead. She will remember them with atfectionate regard till 
North, South, East, and West have sunk beneath the black 
waves of never-ending oblivion. 

Southern Confederacy! we bid thee a fond, an affectionate, 
a sorrowful farewell. Adieu to all thy promised greatness 
and grandeur. Like a bright, flashing meteor, did thy holy 
light temporarily obscure the red glare of the torch of des- 
potism. But now thou hast disappeared, and the darkness is 
intense. The star of thy destiny is set in blood, to rise no 
more. Yet that same star once rose high in the political 
firmament, and threatened by its brightness to eclipse the 
splendor of all surrounding nations. The sacred principle 
which gave rise to thee is suppressed. The fair temple of 
liberty erected upon thy soil is demolished, and the beautiful 
goddess, shrieking over thy darkened ruins, has winged to 
heaven a returnless flight. Celestial goddess! when thou sit- 
test in paradise, pour into the ears of Washington the tale 
of southern wrongs. Tell him that the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, which he fought to sustain, is held in contempt; 
that the Constitution, which his wisdom helped to frame, is 
trampled in the dust; that the government which he first 
administered has become a despotism, and no longer secures 
“peace and happiness,” but it has destroyed the prosperity of 
eight millions of people. Tell him that the Old Dominion 
which gave him birth lies bleeding at every pore, reduced to 
ruin by foreigners and abolitionists. Tell Andrew Jackson 
that Tennessee is a conquered province; that her citizens have 


400 


THE CONFEDERATE SPy. 


lost the right of free suffrage; and that she is ruled with a 
scepter of steel. Tell John C. Calhoun that South Carolina 
has been prostrated, bruised, beaten, humbled by Dutch, 
Irish, northerners, and Africans; and that she can never 
send a member to fill the place he occupied' in the senate 
unless he swears to plant his foot upon her bleeding neck, 
and sell her birthright to free negroes. Tell Daniel Web- 
ster that Massachusetts has degraded herself ; that she will 
soon be a race of mulattoes; that she has abolished the 
worship of liberty, and bows to the black Baal of Africa. 
Tell all this. Goddess of Liberty, and • Washington, and 
Jackson, and Calhoun, and Webster will weep tears of 
blood, even in heaven. 

Confederate States! farewell — a long farewell! The holy 
sisterhood of states, held together by the silken chords of 
mutual trust and love, is broken. Ye must sever the union 
of your choice, baptized with the blood of your noblest sons. 
Let it go ; it is the downfall of the only true republic under 
the broad canopy of heaven. Return to the “glorious Union” 
that will bind you to her affectionate breast with bonds of 
brass and iron. Lay aside your ancient pride and dignity, 
accept such terms as ye can get from the new miscegenated'' 
monarchy, and drink down the wormwood and gall of humili- 
ation; swallow down the bitter pill of defeat; stand by the 
“best government the world ever saw;” give up your wealth 
to rapacious conquerors; recognize and sustain that noble 
“higher law than the Constitution;” abolish forever “the 
sum of all villainies;” place the heaven-favored African in 
his true sphere above the white race; worship the golden calf 
of Ethiopia ; do all this, and may the God of Israel pity your 
social and political degradation! 

It now remains for us to acquaint the reader with the des- 
tinies of those who have figured in these pages, and our task 
is done. We will first proceed to gratify a natural curiosity 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


401 


in regard to the remarkable escape of General Winston. We 
can not do this better than by quoting an extract from a 
Washington newspaper, which is as follows: 

“Our readers will recollect our account of the execution 
of Henry S. Winston, ttie celebrated rebel spy, a few weeks 
ago. The vast multitude present on the occasion will, no 
doubt, be surprised to learn that the prisoner who was 
hanged and buried is now alive and safe in Dixie. It 
happened that the spy did not die; and, while the crowd 
supposed him to be struggling in the agonies of death, he 
was comfortably swinging by the arms. The whole contri- 
vance was one of the most ingenious tricks of modern 
times, and sounds more like romance than truth. Since 
the prisoner’s escape, the whole plot has come to light. It 
would furnish to our novelists a most, excellent foundation 
for a thrilling story. 

“When the first report that the spy was alive reached 
the city, the grave in which he had been buried was opened, 
and what was at first suspicion soon became an indisputable 
fact. It was now observed that the coffin was much larger 
than was necessary, and that at the head there was no plank 
at all; but this opening was concealed by the lining. The 
grave was dug on the side of a hill, and communicated with 
a sink-hole sufficiently large to admit the body of a man. 
It is a little strange that this circumstance aroused nobody’s 
suspicion at the time. It was supposed, though, to be the 
result of accident. 

“It is probable, therefore, and such must have been the 
case, that no sooner did the dead man hear the first clods 
of earth rattle over his head, than he quietly cut the lining 
of his coffin, and then respired freely while he was being 
buried alive. That night he must have crept through the 
sink-hole and made his escape. 

“As soon as all this was discovered, the authorities arrested 
26 


402 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


the provost marshal, as it was thought that the contrivance 
would have been a failure without his assistance; but this 
officer proved his entire innocence. He stated that, a short 
time previous to . the execution, a man by the name of Dick 
Grover called in his office and proposed to become execu- 
tioner, giving as a reason that Winston was a personal enemy, 
and he desired the pleasure of tying the rope around his neck. 
The provost had no objection, and agreed to the proposition. 
The authorities had the city thoroughly searched; and for- 
tunately, though accidentally, Grover was discovered. This 
man is a hardened villain. He swore, that he was privy to 
the whole plot, but that he would be d — d if he would tell 
any thing unless he were guaranteed a full pardon. He 
stated that there were many engaged in it, and some of 
them officers. The , authorities thought best to grant what 
he asked, as no clew could be obtained by which any other 
person could be implicated without his confession. From 
his statement it appears that Dr. Vernon, who, up to this 
time, was above suspicion, was the chief actor. Some of the 
guard on duty at the time state that Vernon had a long 
interview with the spy during his confinement, which, how- 
ever, excited no suspicion, as the surgeon was known to be 
strictly loyal. In the prisoner’s cell an old book was found, 
from which the plan was taken. It contains an account 
of a contrivance similar to that which Vernon and his 
accomplices practiced with such complete success. Vernon, 
however, improved on the original plan by the addition of 
the burial ceremony. 

“Grover states that a broad, strong, leathern belt was 
bound around the spy, immediately under his arms, and to 
this was fastened a piece of rope, like that which was tied 
to the gallows. It came out at the victim’s ear, and con- 
tained a loop at its end. The noose, or hang-knot, was very 
ingeniously constructed. It concealed a stout iron hook, 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


403 


which was so carefully wrapped that it had the appearance 
of being a part of the rope. When all was ready for the 
execution, Grover adjusted the rope, and then pulled over 
the prisoner’s head a black cap, which was also made to 
correspond to the other machinery, and conceal the operation 
of the curious contrivance. While every body supposed he 
was re-arranging the noose, after the cap was on, he was 
fastening the loop to the iron hook. No sooner, therefore, 
did the prisoner drop through the trap-door, than one end 
of the noose pulled out by the sudden jerk, and was con- 
cealed under the cap. Any body would have sworn that 
the man was hanging by the neck. He acted his part to 
perfection, and the whole multitude was completely deceived. 
After swinging some twenty minutes, he was pronounced dead 
by Dr. Vernon and another surgeon bribed to secrecy. The 
corpse was then buried, as we have already stated. It is a 
strange circumstance that nobody recollected who these sur- 
geons were. Both were in disguise. Bribery must have been 
resorted to on an extensive scale. Grover himself was paid 
no less than one thousand dollars for his participation in 
the affair. 

“Vernon and his assistants seem ‘to have suddenly de- 
camped. At all events, not one of them can be found. 
Grover was making arrangements to leave the city when he 
was apprehended. No doubt the whole party will be amply 
rewarded when they reach the land of Dixie, if they are not 
already there. We understand that Winston, for his shrewd- 
ness and risk in running the gauntlet, has been promoted to 
a brigadier-generalship. So much for this, the most remark 
able escape on record.” 

We will not disappoint the reader’s expectation by stating 
that Henry and Emily did not reach the zenith of earthlj 
happiness, pictured in all delightful stories, in a happy 
■marriage. The ceremony was performed, on a bright 


404 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Sabbath morning, one week after their unexpected meeting 
in the road. It is needless to say that they were a happy 
pair. 

The next day the brigade of Greneral Winston commenced 
its march to the South. After some few difficulties, not 
worthy of notice, it reached the State of Mississippi. Gen- 
eral Winston left his beautiful bride in the town of Holly 
Springs, and immediately commenced military operations in 
his native state. He was, in a short time afterward, ordered 
with his command to Virginia, where he served till the close 
of the war. His brigade made a mark which will stand out 
in bold relief amid the annals of the unfortunate Confederacy. 
When this war for separation terminated. General Winston 
did not deem it compatible with his personal safety to re- 
main in the United States. The reader will not, therefore, 
be surprised to learn that he landed at Havana, in July, 
1865, in company with that noble patriot, of whom Ken- 
tucky may well be proud, the gallant General John C. Breck- 
inridge. We may add that Colonel Burrell and Emily, 
who had now entirely recovered her health, were in the 
crowd. May all these self-exiled patriots find that peace 
and quiet in a foreign land which was refused them in 
their own! May every blessing of kind heaven attend them 
in their new homes! 

Poor Colonel Ellsworth fell in the very first battle in which 
he was engaged for the defense of southern honor. He was 
a noble-hearted man, and deserves the gratitude of all true 
southern patriots. Requiescat in pace. Let him rest with all 
other Confederate heroes, who have spilled their blood for 
liberty, under the drooping folds of the Confederate flag. It 
is their winding sheet. Glorious banner! we lay thee down, 
blood-stained, with emotions ineffable. Thy “ stars and bars ” 
are destined no more to wave over the southern land. Thou 
art furled forever ! 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


405 


Honored flag! we take a mournful leave of thee in the 
followinsi: beautiful lines of an American poet — a just tribute 
to the cause of which thou art the emblem: 

“Take that banner down; ’t is weary~ 

Round its stafif ’tis drooping dreary: 

Furl it, fold it, let it rest; 

For there ’s not a man to wave it, 

For there ’s cot a sword to save it, 

In the blood that heroes gave it; 

And its foes now scorn and brave it; 

Furl it, hide it, let it rest. 

Take that banner down; ’tis tattered — 

Broken is its staff, and shattered; 

And the valiant hosts are scattered 
Over whom it floated high. 

0, ’tis hard for us to fold it. 

Hard to think there ’s none to hold it, 

Hard that those who once unrolled it, 

Now must furl it with a sigh. 

Furl that banner — furl it sadly; 

Once six millions hailed it gladly. 

And ten thousand, wildly, madly, 

Swore it should forever wave — 

Swore that foeman’s sword should never 
Hearts like theirs entwined dissever; 

And that flag should float forever 
O’er their freedom or their grave. 

Furl it, for the hands- that grasped it. 

And the hearts that fondly clasped it, 

Cold and dead, are lying low; 

And that banner, it is trailing, ^ 

While around it sounds the wailing ’ 

Oi its people, in their woe. 

For, though conquered they adore it; 

Love the cold dead hands that bore it; 

Weep for those who fell before it; 

Pardon those who trail and tore it: 

0, how wildly they deplore it. 

Now to furl and fold it so! 

Furl that banner; true ’tis gory, 

But ’tis wreathed around with glory. 

And ’twill live in song and story. 


406 


THE CONFEDERATE SPY. 


Though its folds are in the dust: 
.For its fame, on brightest pages, 
Penned by poets and by sages. 

Shall go sounding down the ages — 
Furl its folds though now we must. 

Furl that banner, softly, slowly j 
Furl it gently — it is holy, 

For it droops above the dead: 
Touch it not, unfurl it never; 

Let it droop there, furled forever, 

For its people’s hopes are fledf** 


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